Dark Desire
by Jason Grey
Summary: RotF AU MegaSam other pairings likely. Two halves cannot become a whole until they are joined together. Megatron has plans for the future, and it's not like Sam has a choice in the matter. Updated every other Friday
1. Chapter 1

Once again, it's me, Jason. Anyone remember this fic? I was going to give it to a friend of mine, but…Yeah, that didn't work out so well. Faery is too busy with her own fics to take it on herself. However, our frequent conversations gave me the brainwave this fic needed so badly. Yes people, this fic has a plot now, and it's not the same two-note story it was going to be before. If you have read my A/N in my profile, you'll have a hint of what this story will entail, but that's only part of the story.

I will post this chapter today (Monday, March 28, 2011) and will post Chapter 2 next Monday, April 4th. I'm splitting it up into weekly chapters because Chapter 3 is in pieces and I need time to put everything together. I will be trying something different with this fic in that whenever I have a free moment I'm going to be working on it. Surprisingly I have a lot of free time on my hands, and I hate myself every moment I'm not writing and giving my readers something to enjoy. I cannot promise a chapter a week… Maybe every two weeks if we get lucky. Still, any progress is good progress, right?

With that said, here is your Chapter 1. Hope you enjoy!

11/11/11 Edit: Having to re-upload these chapters because apparently FF(dot)net edited my ! ? down to just ? and a lot of times that makes no sense. Having to add spaces between the two exclamation marks to keep them from being removed. Ugh. Thanks for the extra work FF(dot)net... On the positive side, I'm getting a chance to fix some continuity errors in all of the chapters, which is always a good thing, right? :)

* * *

**Title:** Dark Desire  
**Series:** Transformers  
**Rating:** M  
**Genre:** Romance/Drama  
**Characters:** Sam W. and Megatron  
**Summary:** AU Two halves cannot become a whole until they are joined together. Megatron has plans for the future, and it's not like Sam has a choice in the matter.  
**Warnings:** Sam swears, a lot, Megatron acts oddly, and oh, yeah, there's a smutty scene near the end of the chapter. Read at your own risk, and don't expect the incident to be repeated.

* * *

It was really cold out here. Breathing in deep breaths of cold fall air, Sam was thankful he'd remembered his jacket before leaving the base. He stared up at the stars above him and exhaled softly.

He wished Bee could have seen this with him. He didn't like being alone most of the time- There was too much danger, too much risk that the Decepticons could snatch him up and carry him off for torture and abuse and god-knows-what else. Optimus wasn't very clear on what they'd do to him, only that it would hurt really, really bad.

If Optimus knew he was going out every night since he'd arrived at the base… Sam knew he'd throw a fit. Very little upset the Autobot leader, but his safety was one of them. Actually, the safety of his entire army was his top priority. While the thought of a rampaging Prime going after him for 'endangering himself' wasn't a nice thought, the fact that Optimus actually considered him one of his men was almost heart-warming.

But Optimus wasn't the only one to consider him a soldier. Ever since Mission City, he'd been targeted during battles. Not Bumblebee who was with him. Always just him. All of the Decepticons had tried to kill him at least once, and Barricade had actually gone after him once for each battle he'd been in. Almost fifteen so far! That bastard hated him, and the feeling was mutual!

Of course, the good thing about Barricade was that Bee could fight him off. You couldn't do that with Starscream, or any of the other Seekers, they were too quick. He had nightmares about being snatched up by a Seeker and then being violently torn apart by the winds. They always happened after a battle.

Last time… those nightmares had almost come true. He'd been hiding on the ground, watching the battle and wishing he could help somehow when a hand snatched him up and flew off with him. The winds had nearly knocked him unconscious; he could have sworn he was going to die… And then… He couldn't remember what happened. He probably passed out before Optimus saved him

Looking up into the stars above him, Sam sighed and continued walking. For some reason Optimus had been very tight-lipped about what happened that day- No matter what he did, Optimus refused to talk about it. And it wasn't just him either- Everyone on base kept their lip plates closed about it, even his own guardian. All Bumblebee would say was, "It doesn't matter now Sam. Right now we just need to keep you safe."

"Safe?" Sam reflected aloud, staring out at the stars. "Safe from what?"

"From me, presumably."

Sam froze. That voice… Oh no…

"Well? Aren't you going to look at me?"

Sam bit his lip. He didn't want to give the bastard the pleasure of killing him with his back turned, but the thought of turning around to face him, with those blood-red optics… That was terrifying.

Not like he had a choice though.

He closed his eyes and took a breath. Then, he turned around to face Megatron.

"What do you want?" He said, trying to keep his voice from shaking. It did anyway, and the sight of the widening grin on the Decepticon leader's face made his left eye twitch a bit.

Megatron chuckled. "Isn't it obvious, Sam? I've come to take back what's mine."

_The hell?_

"Yours?" Sam said, actually feeling a bit of anger seeping through his fear. "What do you mean, _yours_?"

A look of feigned surprise crossed the Decepticon Tyrant's face. "You mean you don't remember me saving you?"

Like a door had been opened, everything came back to him. Starscream's hand covering him from the wind, a dark figure appearing in front of them. The growl from above him, how hard it was to breathe. The panic, the fear at being held loosely in Starscream's fist, face covered by his fingers. The struggle, the fall, the catch… And then those words, ominous yet overcast with… something. Something he didn't ever want to acknowledge.

"**You owe me everything now, Sam."**

Of course. Why didn't he think of that? Of course Megatron would use any opportunity to get at the Autobots, even if it meant saving the one who killed him. Of course Megatron would spring at the chance to catch a wary human off-guard to tell him something that he hoped would send him reeling.

Of course Megatron would want a hostage.

Megatron took a step towards him. Sam instantly took several steps back, anger at his stupidity and fear at his situation mixing.

"Stay back, Megatron," he growled, fumbling for the communicator watch Optimus had given him.

Megatron's grin got wider in response. That's when Sam remembered, oh yeah, stupid him had felt safe near the base, so he left it at home.

Goddammit, he was going to die.

"Why are you so afraid?" Megatron said, "Don't you feel safe with me?"

Any hesitations he had about running were long gone now. He bolted, fully ready to run himself sick if he had to. If he could just get near the base-

Megatron's hand suddenly wrapped around his middle, pulling him into the air and close to his chest. "Relax Sam," The Tyrant cooed, wrapping a blanket around him, "You're going to get a real taste of the air now."

_**SHIT!**_

"HEEEEEEEEEEEELLLLLP!" Sam screamed, trying to get out of Megatron's hand. "HELLLLLLLLL-"

Before he knew it, the air was gone from his lungs. The ground got smaller and smaller below him, and the only warmth was coming from the chest he was pressed to.

It was so cold, too cold! Sam struggled to get enough air into his lungs, the air was so thin, too thin, he couldn't breath! He was aware he was clutching onto Megatron's chest armor like he'd never done with anyone, but past the thrum hitting his fingers he knew nothing of it. He gagged, feeling his limbs get heavy, pushing himself closer to the warmth coming from Megatron's chest. With difficulty, he lifted his arm and hit Megatron right where the thrum was the most intense, before it all went black.

He snuggled deeper under the covers. What a nightmare that was. He could almost still feel the freezing cold air, and the thrum of Megatron's spark. At least it was all just a dream, though now that he thought about it his mattress was really hard, like metal-

…_Wait ,what_?

Sam sat up, pulling his hand from the strange box-like object, staring around him in shock. Plain rust-colored walls, a berth, the metal desk that looked so much- too much- like Optimus', and the nightstand he'd been sleeping on.

Shit, guess it hadn't been a dream after all.

And where were his clothes?

He looked at the hand that had been inside the box. The nails were slightly blue. He took another glance at the box. He was a little afraid of touching it, like it would send a signal to his captor alerting him he was awake. Not like he wouldn't know anyway, since his hand had been inside it.

Sam groaned to himself. Here he was, clad in only his boxers, admittedly covered by several layers of blankets, next to a bed (berth?) that could only be the resting place of one person…

Yeah, he was screwed.

He pulled the covers over his chest. He felt… awkward here. Alone, but not alone enough. It wasn't that he felt he was being watched, it was the opposite. He was alone in the Decepticon base, in Megatron's room, next to Megatron's bed clad only in his boxers, and no one was watching him squirm and freak out. That, more than the lack of clothes and where he was, bothered him.

Of course, he knew it was only a matter of time before Megatron showed up again, so he had to get out of here while he was alone… maybe he could get back to the base, or find a way to get a signal to his friends…

That's when he heard it. The clink of chains. He looked down at his legs, pulling up the covers enough to see his ankles.

Oh, god.

The bastard had put a shackle on him!

Now Sam was getting scared. Naked, next to a bed, with a shackle… all he was missing was a collar around his neck and he'd be the perfect BDSM fuck-toy. Admittedly, a fuck-toy for a giant sadistic alien robot, but still a sex slave nonetheless.

Funny, he didn't feel anything around his neck. Maybe he had some kind of collar made of energy or something that he couldn't feel. Reluctantly, he reached up and touched his neck. Nothing. His neck was free, but for how long?

"You're awake. Good."

The voice made him freeze, the tone made him tense. Oh shit.

Sam's head jerked up towards Megatron, eyes wide. The Decepticon looked uncharacteristically solemn, staring at him in a way Sam did not like at all.

"I'm sorry for removing your amour, I wanted to make sure none of your other limbs had ice shards forming inside your energon lines." He continued.

Sam gave him a blank stare, internally translating the mangled English with what he knew about Cybertronian culture and lingo.

"I had frostbite in my hand?" he said at last.

"Something likes that, yes," Megatron said, "Although our term for it is much more complicated than that."

They had frostbite on Cybertron? Funny, he'd never known that. He'd thought Ratchet would have told him about major conditions like that…

"It's actually not as major as you might think," Megatron said, rumbling around in the desk across from him. "The cure for it is complicated, yes, but although it was dangerous it happened quite often as a cure-all for many illnesses."

Did he really want to know?

"Dangerous? Why?" Sam said, actually forgetting that he wasn't with Ratchet for a moment, "Doesn't it just consist of warming the energon up?"

Megatron snorted. "Do you realize how hard it is to raise below-freezing energon to a stable temperature? Coolants are even worse then energon- they freeze, and when that happens unless the blockage is removed you could die. And even then, death is likely."

"Why?"

"Because if it wasn't done right, you'd be embalmed alive."

Gulp. He didn't need to hear that.

If Megatron noticed his sudden change in demeanor, he didn't comment on it. He was focused on something in one of the desk drawers, staring at it like it was something to be despised. Sam coughed to get his attention.

"And this…?" Sam gestured at the box his hand had been in.

Megatron barely glanced at it. "I studied your anatomy and decided on the best course of action to deal with the… frostbite, as you called it. I had to improvise."

Improvise? That didn't sound too good… For a moment, Sam let the blanket covering him slip down. He quickly pulled it back up again, remembering where he was, who he was with, and the shackle… oh God the shackle…

He glanced down at the floor, judging the distance of the drop. But when he looked back up at Megatron-

He was grinning. A chill went up Sam's spine. It was the same grin he'd had before he'd kidnapped him. He pulled up the blankets up closer to his chest, inching back as far as the chain on his ankle would let him. This was not good.

Megatron's claws suddenly snapped out, grabbing onto the blankets and tugging them out of Sam's grasp. Sam gasped, covering himself up with his hands as best he could. He trembled at the look on the Tyrant's face.

"Don't be so shy Sam." Megatron ran one claw carefully down the human boy's face. "It's not like you won't enjoy this…"

Shit! Sam began to tug on the chain with his leg, desperately wishing it would break. If he could only get down, get away from the hunger, the lust in Megatron's optics. This was not how he wanted to spend the day, or the rest of his life, not at all!

Megatron's claw ran down Sam's neck, then over his chest. A strangled noise came out of Sam's mouth as Megatron skimmed over a nipple, then a growl as it went lower… lower… Too low!

Sam kicked out, grasping onto his boxers as Megatron grabbed onto them. "N-No!"

It was no good. Megatron easily tore the thin cloth from his grasp, leaving him exposed. Sam quickly covered himself with his hands, a bright blush on his face. He tried his best to glare at the Decepticon, but… the bastard probably found this amusing.

There was a clink, then a snap by his feet. Sam glanced down and saw that the chain connecting to the shackle on his ankle was snapped. He got up and tried to dart to the edge of the table. But his shackled foot felt numb. He tripped, falling onto his face.

Before he got up he heard Megatron chuckle. "Trying to run from me Sam? Whatever for?" Something wrapped around Sam's middle, pulling him up into the air in front of the Tyrant's face and forcing him to look into his optics. Then, Megatron planted a beastly kiss on Sam's lips.

"Ugh!" Sam screamed as Megatron pulled away. Megatron was so huge his lips had covered most of his face. He groaned, rubbing his face with his arm. He'd just… kissed him. What the hell?

A purr came from above him. Sam glanced up at the mech holding him. The lust in Megatron's eyes was much more intense now, and he openly leered at the boy he was holding. Sam gulped at the demonic smirk on his face.

"Relax Sam," Megatron whispered. Sam felt himself being placed onto Megatron's berth and tried to get up. He had to get away-

Something warm and metal grazed over his flesh. Sam stopped dead, eyes wide. Did he just- Yeah, he did. He groaned as Megatron licked across his stomach, then his chest. N-Not good.

Megatron pulled his glossa back up from Sam's chest towards his face. He licked up his neck and attempted to slide his glossa inside the boy's gaping mouth.

Sam gasped. Was Megatron really trying to french him? His body violently twitched as the tip of the glossa somehow managed to touch his tongue. For a moment Sam allowed his body to go limp at the sudden pleasurable sensation, before tensing up again. Dammit he was NOT going to let this happen! He flailed, trying to hit Megatron and get him to stop.

Finally pulling away, Megatron licked his lips and purred, purred like a happy cat. A happy, dangerous, hungry cat.

"You taste good, Sam." The way he said his name… Oh god…

"What are you so afraid of?" Megatron said, running a claw down Sam's chest. "It's not like you aren't enjoying this." He glanced down, and Sam followed his gaze. He wasn't really looking at-

Dammit. Sam clenched his fists and willed the hardness in between his legs to go away. He couldn't stand the smug look on that metallic bastard's face. If he were a robot, he'd kick his ass for this!

Something warm brushed past his thigh. Sam yelped and jumped, opening his eyes and staring. Megatron was… oh god he was…

Before he could register what Megatron had in mind, he'd already gone from his leg to… Sam moaned openly as Megatron's glossa brushed past his manhood, then shoved a hand into his mouth to muffle the sound. No, he would not let him get the pleasure of knowing how good this felt!

But as Megatron swirled and licked his glossa in ways Sam never knew were possible, it became harder and harder to keep quiet. He squirmed openly, gasping for air that never seemed to come into his lungs. He clutched at the cloth underneath him.

"M-Megatron…" He whispered, unable to keep his eyes off of the Tyrant. Red optics glanced up at him, heavy with amusement at his reactions.

"Hmmm?"

Sam didn't even bother to stop the shuddering moan that came from him as Megatron began to purr. He _felt_ that! Vibrations… oh god yes!

"M-More!" He shouted. "P-Please!"

The Decepticon chuckled. Even as Sam squirmed deliriously, he pulled away. He leaned back towards the boy's head and whispered an order:

"Beg for it."

He didn't even think about the consequences of what submitting might mean. That was the farthest thought from his pleasure-addled mind. Sam wanted more, and he would do anything to get it.

"P-Please…" Sam pleaded, "M-Megatron, please!"

Megatron's glossa trailed back down towards his need, slower then Sam wanted. "I know you can be louder than that Sam."

Bucking up into the warmth of Megatron's glossa, Sam did exactly what he wanted. "More! Please! Oh god Megatron _please_!"

Finally, Megatron gave him what he wanted. Sam shut his eyes and allowed himself to forget everything that had happened in the wash of pleasure that came over him. He never wanted this to stop!

But all too soon, Sam felt something building between his legs. He panted, squirming and bucking until it erupted. Sam shook, holding onto the covers as Megatron pulled away. "O-Oh… T-That was…"

Did that really just happen? He wondered. Was this all some sort of dream?

Megatron flicked his glossa over his stomach, lapping up Sam's juices. He pulled away, and watched him for a moment, before running a claw through Sam's sweaty hair.

"Sleep, Sam." He whispered, "Everything will be right when you wake up."

So this was a dream. Sam relaxed, aware of the red optics staring into him and the claws that could have ripped him to shreds trailing over his head.

Hopefully Bee wasn't too worried about the noises he was making in his sleep….

Then, he slept.

* * *

Well, that had been entertaining. Megatron pulled away, watching the boy sleep. Who knew how fun making humans overload could be?

He sat down next to Sam, brushing his claws through the boy's hair idly. It was such a shame he wouldn't be able to enjoy this moment for longer. The Tyrant sighed. He had a job to do after all.

Reaching up, Megatron tapped his chest, right on his spark. When he pulled away, a ball of blue and white energy had collected onto the tip. He then reached down towards Sam's bare chest, and pushed the energy into him, right where his human heart was. Then, he stepped back and watched.

The effect started even before he had moved far enough back. Bones stretched beyond the breaking point, flesh hardened and twisted, hair solidified and spiked out into the traditional Decepticon-styled helmet. To any Autobot, this transformation would be disturbing, even gruesome, but to him… to him it was as pure and true as the energy that his spark was now comprised of.

It was ironic, to consider himself 'pure' and 'true' as his predecessor in power was. But, in Cybertronian culture, it was true. Any being comprised of such a large amount of AllSpark energy was as pure as the AllSpark itself. And since he had discovered what he was able to do…

But he was not complete. He knew that much. A good portion of his essence, the very consciousness of the former AllSpark, was nowhere to be found. At least, not in any original Cybertronian.

In barely five organic minutes, the transformation was complete. Instead of a small, fragile human lying on his berth, there was a beautiful, if not a little small, Decepticon. The boy looked remarkably like himself, only in cool colors instead of warm shades. What that meant about him was up to debate. And that could wait until the morning.

Megatron lay down beside the boy-turned-mech, draping himself over the smaller male. It had been so long since he'd been next to a body like this… Not since his last night with Optimus Prime on Cybertron. He allowed himself a smile. At last, the lonely nights were over.

Well, not completely. He still had a long way to go before the mech beside him would allow him to get so close. But for now, Megatron savored the warmth of another body pressing against him.

He ran his hand over the mech's chestplates. He felt the spark underneath twitch at his touch. "Skyhunter." That was what he'd call this mech. Skyhunter.

Offlining his optics, Megatron let himself enter his recharge cycle. He'd have time to talk to his creation in the morning.

Heh. There were some perks of being the AllSpark after all.

* * *

*TBC*

* * *

Once again I'd like to thank Faery's Delight for helping me get off my bum and post this. If you like Transformers ones-shots, by the way, you'll probably get a kick out of her Bits and Pieces of Transformers short story collection. With that said, I gotta thank you all again for putting up with me. I realize it's not always fun to wait for me to update, but you guys that stick around are why I stick around too. And if you've just stumbled upon this fic, I'd love to hear from you too! I really do love your reviews, even if I'm braindead on responding to half of them.

I'll be seeing you guys next Monday!

~Jason


	2. Chapter 2

Hey guys, Jason here, and we're back with a new chapter! Told you I'd update every Monday, though I've been debating switching it to Friday… What would you guys think about that?

Anyway, this is the last of the pre-written chapters that I have. The next chapter is all new baby… Trouble is, I have no idea what happens after that chapter. :/ Hm. I need to get working on that, I have one more week to get chapter 3 done, and two more weeks to work on Chapter 4. I can't be letting you guys down, now can I?

With that said, here's chapter 2. Hope you enjoy!

* * *

**Title**: Dark Desire  
**Series**: Transformers  
**Rating**: M  
**Genre**: Romance/Drama  
**Characters**: Sam W. and Megatron  
**Summary**: AU Two halves cannot become a whole until they are joined together. Megatron has plans for the future, and it's not like Sam has a choice in the matter.  
**Warnings**: More pottymouth Sam, one disturbing nightmare that isn't nearly as explicit as the blowjob scene last chapter, and me playing around with the Untrustworthy Narrator concept.

* * *

Sam wasn't stupid. He was naïve, yes. Probably a little foolish too. And maybe a little too involved with robots for his own good. These were all things he knew and acknowledged. But he wasn't stupid.

Still, Sam had no idea who the hell he was snuggling with.

What happened last night? He wondered. Why was it so dark? He could feel the berth underneath him, the warmth of the body next to him, the thrumming of his spark in his chassis-

_What the hell! ?_

Red optics onlined in a flash. As sight came back to the startled mech, he jerked. Oh god.

He remembered now. Going for a walk, getting kidnapped by Megatron, the brief talk they'd had… and the sex. Oh god, Megatron really had given him a blowjob. And then… he'd fallen asleep.

And now…

Sam rolled over, and found himself optic to optic with the confused and tired face of Megatron.

Letting out a screech that could wake the dead, Sam rolled out of Megatron's arms. Unfortunately, he rolled too far and found himself face down on a cold metal floor. He groaned, sitting up and rubbing his helmet-

Helmet! ?

Megatron's head poked over the side of the berth. "Do you have any idea what time it is?" He said. A small part of Sam's mind wondered why Megatron had to look so sexy when he was tired, but that awkward thought was shoved out of the former human's processor immediately. He had bigger things to worry about.

"What the hell did you do to me! ?" Sam shouted. He recoiled at the sound of his voice. It was obviously him, but it was… metallic. Robotic. Just like Megatron's.

The Tyrant stared. "Isn't it obvious?" he said. "Now get back up here and get some recharge, it's too early to get up."

Sam gawked. Did Megatron think, for a second, that he was going to sleep in the same bed as him? _Really_? What was he planning on doing to him? Was he some kind of slave?

He shook his head rapidly. "No, no way! I'm not going anywhere near you!"

"S-"

"I'll sleep right here on the floor!" Sam snapped, sitting up to stare Megatron in the optic. He was no one's slave-

Before he could register what had happened, Megatron had grabbed him by the chin and forced their lips together. The Decepticon leader easily forced Sam's mouth open and slid his glossa inside. The only thing Sam could do was stare, wide-eyed, as his mouth was assaulted.

Yeah, definitely a slave.

When Megatron finally pulled away, Sam's vents were working overtime, struggling to suck air back into his shaking body. Staring up at those menacing red optics, the mech barely noticed his forearms being seized until Megatron pulled, dragging him onto the berth.

Grunting from the pain, Sam struggled to free his arms. Too late. Megatron pinned him onto the berth with his own body, glaring down at him. Inside his chassis, Sam's spark twitched noticeably, like it wanted to break out of its casing. Megatron didn't notice.

"I don't care if I have to stay on you like this all night." The Tyrant growled, "You _will_ rest, and you _will_ do it where I can see you. Understand?"

Sam's new body twitched at the pressure on top of it. The mech was starting to get a little nervous. "And if I don't?" His voice showed it.

Megatron's smirk chilled him to the core. Before he realized it, his hand was trailing down his side, before it stopped and stroked one particular spot a few times. Sam gasped, optics flickering at the pleasure that suddenly surged through him.

"Or I'll do much more than this," Megatron whispered in his audio.

Part of Sam wanted to keep being defiant, to get more of that pleasure. It was only a small part, though. The rest of him wanted nothing more then to get away. Slowly, Sam nodded. "How?"

"Just offline your optics. Everything else will come naturally" Sam could see how pleased he was about his obedience. It made him sick to realize how much Megatron would enjoy having him as a slave. Even if he didn't touch him now, he probably would later.

With these troubling thoughts haunting his processor, Sam offlined his optics. He didn't even feel Megatron roll off him as he fell into darkness once more.

* * *

"Skyhunter," Megatron purred the name out sadly, watching his creation slumber. He didn't mean to scare him. He didn't mean to slip back into the state he used both with his men and his enemies. It just happened. He didn't want him to be afraid of him.

The Tyrant sighed, stroking the young mech's chassis lovingly. He was perfect, wasn't he? Not exactly Decepticon material, but Megatron had no intention of him fighting the Autobots- yet, at least. He was too fragile mentally to force him into battle with his friends.

Besides… Skyhunter obviously thought he was some kind of sex slave. He'd seen it in his optics just before he'd fallen into recharge. Megatron frowned at that thought. While he was not one for love, he had no intention of using him for sex. At least, not yet. He wanted his creation to interface willingly with him… not struggling and begging him to stop.

And there were other problems. His men were aware of what he was, right from the moment they'd first seen him alive. However, they would not trust anything he created, especially not the very human he'd been killed by. His mere presence would cause some issues. But, if they didn't like it, they could leave. Megatron snorted at the thought. They may distrust him, and they would probably dislike Skyhunter, but they hated Autobots more then either of those.

At least, that's what he was hoping.

His creation whimpered in his recharge. Megatron jumped a little, not expecting the sound. He looked down at Skyhunter. His beautiful face was contorted into a look of distress. The Decepticon sighed, running his claws delicately over his face until his whimpers stopped and he relaxed.

"Sweet dreams," Megatron mummered. He slipped down next to his creation and wrapped himself around him, and joined Skyhunter in recharge.

His dreams were much more pleasant then usual.

* * *

"_No!"_

_Sam thrashed, struggling to free himself from the arms dragging him._

"_No! You can't!"_

_But his captor was too strong for him. He dragged him, kicking and screaming, to the berth, and tossed him down without a second thought. Before Sam could run to the door the towering mech grabbed a chain from behind the wall, wrapping them around his wrists. As the chain clinked ominously, Sam started to beg._

"_No, please, no! I'll do whatever you want! Just not this!"_

_The mech didn't listen. He straddled Sam, grasping his head and lifting his chin away from his neck with one hand. With the other, he snapped something around his neck. Sam knew what was coming next._

"_Oh god, please! I'll tell you where the base is! I'll fight for you! Just please, no!"_

_His red optics locked with his captor's. He was given a dangerous grin, before the mech trailed his hand down from his neck to his chassis._

"_No no no no no no! Not that! Please!"_

_Tears started falling from his optics as his pleads were ignored. The mech grabbed his chest plates covering his spark and pulled on them, sending a blast of pure agony coursing through his body. Sam whimpered, and tried one last time._

"_Megatron… please…"_

_The Tyrant leaned down over his exposed spark, staring into his optics. _

"_It's 'Master' Sam."_

_Then, he slammed their sparks together._

A loud sound, metal slamming against metal, jerked Sam from his recharge. He groaned, rubbing his optics with his fist. What a nightmare.

Something rubbed him gently on the head. Sam looked up into red optics, oddly soft for their owner. Sam stared. He wanted to move away from Megatron, but… no. He didn't want his nightmare to come true.

At least, not anytime soon.

"What-?"

"Shhh." Megatron whispered. He climbed off the berth and headed towards the door. Sam watched him, then quickly rolled over onto his other side so he wasn't facing the door. Hopefully whoever it was wouldn't comment on him.

The voice was familiar, the tone grated on his nerves. Sam knew exactly who was at the door.

"Megatron!" Starscream snapped. "What the frag have you been doing all night?"

Sam had heard enough Cybertronian to know when it was being spoken. The clicks and chatters, going up and down in pitch to octaves no human singer could dream of reaching, were now as familiar to him as English was. It was quite beautiful, once you got used to it.

But he could understand it. That wasn't right. Human brains could never be capable of storing all the various inflections in their language, not to mention their tongues were not as nimble as Cybertronian glossas. But, then again, he wasn't human any more, was he?

"Things you cannot begin to understand," Megatron replied. The tones he used made Sam shiver. He'd quickly discovered what tones meant what emotion. Megatron's tones and vocabulary expressed the deepest sort of annoyance, even hatred towards Starscream, but there was something else, a variation Sam couldn't quite pick up on. "What do you want?"

"Don't be a smartaft." Starscream's tones also indicated hatred, but with a mix of distrust and more of that variation Megatron had used. It also distinctly sounded like he was scolding his leader. "We all picked up on you using your energy last night. You did something, and you didn't mention it to any of us." Was that… disappointment in Starscream's voice?

Wait a minute, what energy?

"Then why didn't any of you come after me?" Megatron replied. The variation was still there, but almost hidden with a heavy layer of amusement. Was Megatron…teasing him? "Don't tell me you got 'caught up' with Barricade again."

'Caught up' was the only way his processor would translate that bit. Sam couldn't be sure, but… Wait a minute, Starscream and Barricade were having sex! ?

After a moment of awkward stammering, Starscream finally caught himself. "None of us wanted to aggravate you! We all know what you're like when… you're…" The mech trailed off, his last tones expression confusion.

"Who's that?"

Sam tried not to tense at both the words and the tone. He just had to pretend he was asleep… Maybe Megatron could distract him…

"My creation," Sam's optics widened at that. His tone was possessive, yet proud. Pleased even. And his words…

No… that was impossible…

There was a very, very long pause as Starscream digested that. Then, he spoke in a tone that indicated both helplessness and a strong sense of denial.

"You didn't."

"And if I did?" Megatron replied. Sam couldn't pick up on the emotions behind the tones. It was like Megatron was masking his emotions…

Starscream stammered mindlessly, before saying in a desperate tone, "You know he'll kill you again when he activates his weapons system."

"Don't be foolish," Megatron now spoke in the scolding tone Starscream had moments before, "I'm much stronger then he is. Besides, I don't plan on him being a warrior."

All Sam wanted to do was cry at that. So he was going to be a slave.

"Not yet, at least. His armor is far too fragile to be damaged at this point." Megatron's voice… Did he know he was listening? "Besides, I highly doubt he will fight against his friends without some kind of stimulus." Wait, _what_?

There was a sigh from the other side of the door. "Whatever you say, oh wondrous leader." Starscream's tone indicated he was not happy, but he wasn't being sarcastic either. He was just… accepting.

After another long pause, Megatron snapped "Are you going to stand there forever?"

"Fine." Starscream said, "But I'm keeping a close optic on your… creation." Starscream's footsteps echoed away from the door. Megatron sighed, muttered something Sam couldn't catch, and turned around, the automatic door shutting behind him.

"How much did you hear?"

It was the tone Megatron was speaking in that made him jump, not the fact that Megatron was speaking to him in Cybertronian. It was the emotion he'd heard him using with Starscream, only instead of being in the background, it was in the front, covering… no way! That couldn't be… compassion… could it?

Sam rolled over and sat up, looking over at the Tyrant.

"Everything."

Funny, his voice sounded so… empty speaking in Cybertronian. There were inflections, but… they were flat. Emotionless. Why?

Megatron heard it too. He flinched slightly, then sighed.

"I suppose you have some questions." He said, walking back over to the berth.

Immediately Sam shoved tones and inflections out of his processor. Megatron… was going to let him ask him what was going on? He was actually going to explain what had happened? And why the hell he was a Cybertronian now?

"Well, y-yeah, I do" Sam squinted at him. When Megatron nodded, he asked, "What did he mean by… energy?"

The smirk that popped up on Megatron's face almost made Sam think he made a mistake. Then, Megatron snapped his fingers.

For a moment, Sam wasn't sure why his sensors were going crazy. They kept repeating a series of Cybertronian syllables over and over. Then, it hit him. He'd heard those words before…

"No."

"Yes," Megatron said.

Sam shook his head so fast he thought it would come off. "No, no way! You cannot be the AllSpark!"

Sniggering, Megatron said, "But you can sense it. Your sensors are going mad right now, I can tell from the look in your optics. Besides…" His grin got lazy, almost sexual in manner. "How would I have been able to change you if I wasn't?"

That was something he'd been afraid to address. Something he'd been afraid to even think about, But, since he brought it up… "Why?"

The blank look on Megatron's face forced him to elaborate. "Why me? Why did you change me into a Decepticon?"

Crossing his arms, the Tyrant actually seemed to have to think about that for a moment. That… didn't bode well.

"I needed someone to talk to." He finally said.

Huh? Sam stared at his captor. That made no sense! He had plenty of people to talk to, he didn't have to turn a squishy into a Cybertronian to get some!

"Intelligent conversation, in other words," Megatron added.

"And you expect to get that from me?" Sam said.

A snort came from Megatron's mouth, a smile quirking at his lips. He quickly smoothed it out with his clawed hand, but Sam still caught it. Sam stared. Did he really… just make Megatron laugh?

"I'm certainly getting it now," The Decepticon leader said.

"Why else." Sam said. That couldn't just be it, could it?

"Well…" Megatron frowned. Sam got the feeling he wouldn't like the other reasons. "You have information I want, both about the Autobots and about the AllSpark. You killed me." He locked his optics with Sam's. "And honestly, I want to know why I found you so sexually attractive as a human."

If Sam had been able to, he would have blushed a bright red at that. As it was, optics darkened from ruby to garnet in embarrassment. Megatron… had found his human form sexy? He shook that off.

"I can understand information about the Autobots, but the AllSpark? I don't know anything about that! And if you found me so attractive, why did you change me?"

Mulling it over for a moment, Megatron finally answered. "I don't trust myself around organics. Besides, it wasn't just your body I wanted."

Before Sam could register that statement, Megatron continued.

"And you know where the rest of my energy is."

"Huh?"

Megatron sighed, and pulled his chest plates aside. Sam recoiled, but quickly realized that the Tyrant didn't have sex on his processor. Besides, he wasn't sure it was possible to interface with such a large hole in your spark casing.

"It's not just in my spark casing," Megatron said quietly.

Sam's vents took in air quickly. "You mean… you have a hole in your spark?"

No verbal response was necessary. Megatron merely pulled the covering over his spark again, hiding it from sight.

Now Sam understood. The AllSpark fragment… Megatron needed it to be whole, maybe even to live.

And he was the only person he had that knew where it was.

But… If Megatron got that fragment, what would he do to the Autobots? What would he do to Earth? And… the nightmare he had… if Megatron's spark was whole, he could…

No. He couldn't tell him. Not yet, at least.

And, as he looked into Megatron's optics, struggling with what felt right and what the consequences might be… He saw something that chilled his spark more then anything that had happened so far.

He saw understanding.

Megatron knew, and he didn't care. He had all the time in the world to win Sam over, and as the young mech reviewed everything that had been said, he could find no evidence in the tones he spoke in that suggested he would be harmed. He couldn't even find anything to suggest he would be forced to join his ranks.

And yet… This was _Megatron_. Optimus had said, repeatedly, that while he never lied, you had to be very careful about what he said and didn't say. That was where the Prime had messed up, so long ago.

Sam didn't want to repeat his mistakes.

But… Watching Megatron recline on the berth beside him, his red optics gazing off into the distance… Could this be why Optimus had fallen in love with him?

"You're going to have to meet my men sooner or later."

"I know."

A lazy smirk grazed Megatron's face. "You'll be quite… unnerving for them"

"Why?"

One of Megatron's hands snapped out and wrapped around his waist, pulling him to his chest. "You'll see," He purred.

Pressed against Megatron's chest, feeling the broken spark pulse behind him, Sam submitted.

"Who am I?" Sam asked

"Skyhunter," Megatron whispered in his audio. "My Skyhunter."

No, Megatron, Sam thought, leaning back against him. I'm still Sam.

* * *

*TBC*

* * *

I love that last line… It just… Fits.

Anyway, I don't have much to say about this chapter, other than, yes, the other Decepticons will be appearing next chapter… Including a very special guest that I have been wanting to toy with for a long, long time. Also, me and my family are going up to South Carolina to go to my sister's wedding, which is this Saturday, so if you review and I don't get back to you immediately, that's why.

Thanks again to all those that reviewed, and I'll see you on the 11th!

~Jason


	3. Chapter 3

Hey guys, Jason here. I think most of you can probably guess why I didn't post this last Monday, but I figure I'll explain anyway. As I said last time I updated, my sister's wedding was on the 9th and I had the chapter about half-done. I was expecting to be able to finish it there, but as anyone who is familiar with wedding knows, that's generally not possible. I was actually so exhausted that I only managed to get this chapter done early this morning, though that was also due in part to a new idea I had (original story) that's been overtaking my mind…

Anyway, in this chapter, we have Prime! Several of them, even. You're finally gonna learn about how the Autobots took Sam's vanishing (not well, clearly), and will soon meet Sam's new best friend, who I doubt you'll see coming… If you did see who Sam befriends coming, drop me a PM or review and tell me, and I'll find a way to congratulate you.

* * *

**Title**: Dark Desire  
**Series**: Transformers  
**Rating**: M  
**Genre**: Romance/Drama  
**Characters**: Sam W. and Megatron  
**Summary**: AU Two halves cannot become a whole until they are joined together. Megatron has plans for the future, and it's not like Sam has a choice in the matter.  
**Warnings**: A mention of a suicide attempt, mo-les-ta-tion that doesn't lead anywhere, Sam still a bit of a pottymouth, deaging, Sam not taking people seriously, and some heavy innuendo and sexual themes at the end of the chapter.

* * *

Something was calling him.

Optimus Prime sat in his office, an untouched cube of energon before him, staring at the space above the door. Behind him, Bumblebee slept, tossing and turning on the cot they'd installed in his office. Occasionally the Prime's audios caught a hint of a whimper, a muffled sob into the pillow that supported him. It tore Optimus' spark in two to have to listen to his misery, but he knew it wasn't safe to leave Bumblebee alone. Even with his suicide code deleted, even with Ratchet preparing the medbay for his unique case, Optimus wouldn't dare dream of leaving the young mech by himself, not even for a nanoclick.

None of them could have ever considered this. Sam's abduction, Bumblebee's suicide attempt… Optimus could still see the Twins' outburst at the news that Sam was not in his room in his processor's optic. They knew, before almost anyone else, that Sam was no longer with them.

And there would never be a body to perform the proper human funeral rites on.

Was it his fault that Sam would never see another sunrise? That's all he wanted during his time at the base, to be able to go out in the morning and watch this solar system's star rise over the horizon… and he'd never allowed it. It was too dangerous, he always said. It was too risky after Megatron's revival and reemergence, even before he had actually appeared.

Sam never even had a warning that Megatron had been revived… He never had a chance to prepare should he become involved in the war once more…

No, this wasn't Sam's war. Optimus placed his head in his hand. This wasn't his war to fight, but it was certainly his to lose. He should not have asked for his help.

First Sam, and now… Those signals… The Prime remembered the way Ironhide described feeling his own signal for the first time: Like Primus himself had crossed his path. The words were poetic for the soldier, but now Optimus realized it was an apt description, if the burning, flickering signals that pricked on the edge of his scanners were any indication.

There were other Primes on Earth. Two, at the least, close to each other. One seemed to push against his sensors, driving him back. The other pulled him closer, and Optimus had to wonder at the emotions he seemed to feel coming from them: Fear, dread, longing for something or someone lost to the one the signal came from. Optimus had never sensed emotions coming from a signal before. Had he been in his right mind, he would have better understood the implications of that realization, but grief was not kind to logical thought.

Optimus folded his hands over each other, thinking. He hadn't told anyone else that he sensed what must be other Primes. The grief was still too soon, too strong, to consider mentioning them. While he might have been leader, while it might have been wise to bring them up, they had enough on their shoulders to deal with.

The Prime finally picked up the cube and drank. The energon seared his vocalizer pleasantly. High grade… Where did they get a hold of that? Optimus pushed the thought from his mind. If there was ever a time to need high grade, now was it. He'd never been much of a drinker. High grade didn't remove the problems, just diminished your capabilities to think about them… But now was a nice time to forget their united problems. Now was a nice time to forget about what they'd lost.

First came mourning… First came mourning, then came vengeance. The Decepticons had crossed the line many times before, but this would be the first and last time they killed a human. They would never see the lifeblood of another Autobot ally, or a human in general, on their hands again.

Megatron would pay for taking His Sam.

Of that, Optimus swore.

* * *

They were staring at him.

From his spot by the door to the rec room Sam watched his new… _allies_ from where they sat in spots around the room. Ugh, just thinking that hurt. It'd been a few hours since Megatron had left his or was it their quarters to do something that was clearly very important and very urgent if his attitude was any indication. The Tyrant had promised to, what were the words he'd used…? Oh, yeah, "retrieve him when he needed him". Urk. And the asshole hadn't even said _why_ he'd need him, which didn't help the nightmarish thoughts that circled the former human's head. No, it just made them worse, which Sam was pretty sure was Megatron's intention. Wasn't that always his intention, to make others suffer? But, that wasn't important at the moment.

As much as Sam had tried to keep it secret, there proved to be no secrets at the Decepticon base, least of all involving him. There wasn't a Con on this base that didn't know about him, that didn't know that Sam Witwicky, the small fleshie boy that killed their leader, was now a Decepticon like them.

And that was the problem. He wasn't 'like them' yet. He wasn't one of them yet.

To most of them, he was prey. As per usual with what he knew about life when it involved him.

Sam scanned the crowd again. Most were sitting on furniture scaled to their size. Some of the pieces Sam couldn't even have dreamed of existing, but hey, everything alien was like that, right? There was not a single optic in the room not on him. Sam bit his lip, the wires in his stabilizers tightening. He wanted to run… He had to get out of here, before they… But where could he hide? The Decepticons knew their base, knew it far better than he did. They'd herd him into a room he couldn't get out of and… He couldn't let them know he was afraid. He couldn't let them find a single weakness, or else his life would be so much worse while he waited for Optimus to save him.

But when would that be? How could he get a message out to Optimus? Would Optimus even believe him when he begged for help? Optimus had made mistakes after all. Bumblebee had told him about when a Decepticon copied the form of one of Optimus' closest friends and made Optimus mistake him for the real one. After Optimus had his real friend executed, the Decepticon attempted to assassinate him. Optimus had never let himself get close to anyone else again. Would Optimus risk it again? They were close, yeah, but were they _that_ close?

Metal scraped across the floor, loud feet thudding against the ground as two mechs headed his way. Sam jerked to attention and turned towards the sound just in time for a large, dark hand to grab his shoulder. Shit! Sam grabbed the wrist of the mech that had grabbed him, his legs already trying to move for the door as he tried to wrestle the mech off, only for the second mech to grab his hand and force it behind his back, the rest of him quickly pinned to the chassis of the mech that grabbed him. Sam's spark began to pound in his audios, and he threw up his leg to kick the second mech, now advancing on him, away. The mech caught his foot, and Sam grunted in pain and distress as the mech wrapped it around his waist and pinned his huge chassis against Sam's smaller one.

Not. Good.

"Now now, don't be scared…" Sam glanced up at the voice of the mech from behind him, only to yelp and jerk as a huge hand slipped down his side. The mech chuckled and nibbled on the side of his helm, even as his similarly-looking brother bent down and licked the Decepticon insignia so prominent on Sam's throat. Sam let out a strangled moan, glancing at the other Decepticons in the room… Maybe they'd…

They were smirking. Sam felt his spark sink. They were smirking, jabbing each other, talking in Cybertronian amongst themselves. They knew what these two were going to do to him, Sam realized, they knew and they were expecting a turn with him after they were done with him, and that realization sent a wave of panic through him.

A large hand groped his aft and Sam nearly screamed. "That's better," the second mech said, and looked into his large, panicked red optics with a smirk. "The name's Thundercracker," The mech said.

The mech holding him smirked. "And I'm Skywarp," He said, kissing Sam's audio and ignoring the former human's growing attempts to thrash his way to freedom. Sam's spark raced even louder in his audios at the kiss, trying to think of any way to get out of this. Could he signal Megatron? Did he even have access to his commlink at all?

Thundercracker chuckled and placed his hand on Sam's insignia and Sam cringed, his spark skipping a beat. "You should remember our names, boy… After all, you'll be screaming them soon."

Screaming them… Sam shook his head rapidly, a dagger of terror slicing through his spark as the action brought chuckles of amusement from the Decepticons. No, no, he didn't want to be screaming their names, not in pleasure or in fear or anything else! He didn't want to be screaming the name of a Decepticon period, no matter who they were or what they were doing!

"Now…" Thundercracker said, leaning closer, a dirty smirk planted on his face plates. "Why don't you tell us your name…" His fingers trailed down from Sam's insignia to his chassis, causing a whimper to escape the former human. "…So we can get down to business?"

It was hopeless. Sam went limp in his captor's grip, unbidden tears beginning to form in his optics. There was no way he could get away from these two. He was trapped. Sam forced himself to swallow the rock in his vocalizer. Maybe if he cooperated they'd end it quickly…

"My name," Sam said in Cybertronian, "Is Skyhunter."

Before the last word had even left his mouth the two were scrambling away from him, Skywarp almost throwing him away. Sam yelped and tumbled to the ground, just barely managing to keep himself from falling flat on his face. He forced himself into a crouch and turned to look at the two mechs that had been tormenting him. Skywarp's expression was that of disgust. Thundercracker looked horrified. And as Sam scanned the rest of the room, he realized that the other Decepticons' had similar expressions on their faces.

Sam stood up, shuttering his optics as he turned to them. "What?" He asked.

Thundercracker cringed and inched back. Skywarp winced, shaking his head.

Oh god, what did he do now? Sam took a step towards the two, only for both of them to back up. Sam tilted his head to the side. It would have been comic to see these two big bad Cons quivering like children in the dark had it not been such a sudden change from what they'd been doing before he spoke. Sam began to back for the door. Maybe he should just leave…

The door opened. Sam's back hit something heaving and warm. Sam froze. Oh shi… Megatron! ? No, no, it was too small to be Megatron, well, they were bigger than him, but not by much. They were definitely out of breath, however, and just as he thought that, a huge claw clamped onto his right arm.

"You," an unfamiliar voice said, "Are coming with me." Before Sam could even cry out, the mystery mech had dragged him out of the rec room and down the hall, down a hall Sam hadn't even seen in his explorations. As they entered a part of the base Sam hadn't been in yet, the former human began to squirm.

"Hey, wait a minute! Slow down!" Sam shouted, "Where are you taking me! ?" Sam asked.

The mech didn't even look at him. "Shut up," he said, and headed down a hall. At the end of the hall was the only door, and the mech walked right to it. He typed in a code on the pad by the door and when it opened, pushed the former human inside. Sam stumbled as the mech released him, shuttering his optics as the lights came on in the room to a dim. He glanced around where he was. It looked like he was in some kind of study or office… He turned to the mech that had kidnapped him.

"Who are you! ?" Sam demanded.

The mech let out a soft sigh. "Of course he wouldn't have mentioned me…" the mech said, his voice a smooth purr. The mech turned to face him, revealing more of his features, the oddly shaped head, the slender body and elegant front, the flames that gently licked up and down his… Wait, what?

Sam wasn't always the best with guessing ages in Cybertronians, but he knew a few things about the stages Cybertronians went through as they aged. First came sparkling, or hatchling in some cases, then youngling, the child stage, then cuspling, the pre-teen stage, then teenbot, which was self-explanatory, and finally full adulthood. Cybertronians never stopped growing, getting bulkier from upgrades and maturity, with the only way to stop the growth being to offline the Cybertronian. Sometimes it was hard to tell the sparkling that once was from the adult they were now, but generally there were always features that stayed the same… Well, except when the Cybertronian got a new base mode, like what happened with Earth…

With all that information in mind, Sam was pretty sure he was looking at a teenbot, a young one at that, maybe about 16 or 17 in Earth years.

That didn't explain why he was on fire. Or why he looked like he hadn't gotten a new base mode in years. Hell, even _Megatron_ looked more advanced than this guy.

Nor did it explain why the teenbot was glaring at him like he'd finally encountered his nemesis for the first time in a lifetime.

"Well, Prime, you're certainly one for trouble, now aren't you?" The teenbot sneered, folding his arms over his chassis.

Sam shuttered his optics at the mech. Prime? What the hell? Why was this guy calling him Prime? He didn't look anything like Optimus… Was it some kind of insult or… "Um…" Sam started, "I'm sorry, but I think you have the wrong perso-"

"Don't give me that slag!" The teenbot shouted, his flames flaring as he took a step towards him. Sam immediately stepped back, fighting a startled swear at the sight. "I knew who you were from the moment you were given a new form," the teenbot said, "I knew what you were the moment Megatron brought your pathetic fleshie form into my home." A noise escaped the teenbot as his claws clenched… Did he just hiss at him? "I don't know why Megatron was so insistent on changing you… It was clearly a bad idea!"

Anger flooded through Sam's systems for no apparent reason Sam could see. His spark twitched in his chassis and Sam said, "Well, yeah maybe it _was_ a bad idea, but it wasn't your choice to make, now was it? Megatron is the Decepticon leader jackass! Everyone knows what he's like when he sets his mind to something!"

A strange look crossed the teenbot's face. Then he smirked. "Oh how quickly the conversion process happens," the teen said, "One minute you're pining for your friends, praying for your rescue, and then the next you're talking like one of us. Make up your slagging processor Prime!"

The anger that filled him at the teenbot's previous words was replaced by the cold chill of realization. He _had_ just spoken like a Decepticon. Sam grit his dental plates at that thought. Why did he do that? He wasn't a Decepticon, he'd never be a Con! Had Megatron done something to him that would make him more compatible with Decepticon ideals? Sam wouldn't dismiss that notion, not with all he knew about the Tyrant.

And how would this random teenbot know he was pining for his friends? Yes, he wanted to be back with the Autobots, yes, he didn't want to be with the Decepticons, but that was the last thing on his processor when faced with something like this! The chill was replaced by anger. How would he know how it felt to be separated from the ones who protected him, who he almost gave it all for? Sam spoke.

"Well you can't exactly blame a guy for getting pissy when they're faced by a guy who thinks they know better than the guy in charge! And stop calling me Prime! If you want to insult me, you're going to have to think of a better term!"

The teenbot opened his mouth to speak again, only to pause, another strange expression crossing his face. Red optics shuttered a few times in what might be confusion as the teenbot stared at him. "You don't know," the teenbot said at last.

Sam blinked at the teenbot. What was he going on about now? "Uh… Don't know what?"

The teenbot looked away, raising his claw to his head. "I don't believe this. You really don't know… I could have sworn you'd be able to realize not long after you onlined, but…" The teenbot scowled, then sighed. "Oh well," He said, "I suppose I'll make do with what I have."

"Uh…" Sam shuttered his optics at the teenbot. O… kay, what was his problem? Sam shook that off. "What do you mean, 'make do with what you have'?"

Once again, the teenbot turned to him, the sneer returning to his face. "If you're too stupid to figure it out by yourself, I see no reason to explain myself," the teenbot said, straightening up to his full height even as Sam sputtered indignantly. "And you should know that it's rude to interrupt someone when they're thinking…"

Oh, what a jerk this guy was. Shaking that off, Sam inhaled deep through his vents and- wait, what he'd just say?

"Rude?" Sam repeated, his optic ridges rising. He put his hands on his hips. "Say the guy who dragged me out of the rec room with no explanation or warning, verbally attacked me with no provocation, called me Prime as an insult, and still hasn't introduced himself!"

The teenbot stared at him, jaw agape. "Don't backtalk me!" He said. "You of all people should know better than to sass someone you don't know anything about!"

Sam gave him a look. "You're a teenbot," Sam said, "And an asshole at that. I'll talk to you as I like."

Though, Sam was having trouble rationalizing the fire that was draped over the teenbot… How was that possible? It couldn't be normal, but was it something worth being respectful over? Sam brushed that thought off, smirking at the infuriated look on the teenbot's face.

Hissing through his teeth, the teenbot said, "Megatron wasn't honest with me yet again." The teenbot growled. "He said you'd be passive! He said you'd be timid! He told me I could easily handle you and not worry about you giving me lip, and here you are doing just that!"

The former human thought about that for a moment. "Well, Megatron's only seen one side of me," Sam said at last. He gave the teenbot a grin that he never would have been capable of as a human. "Now you're seeing another."

The oddly-designed teenbot stared at him. "Of course," He said, his voice laced with venom. Then he sighed. "Well, at least I won't have to deal with you for too long. Megatron's asked me to give you a tour of the base, help you get settled in and all that inanity. I don't know why he couldn't do it himself, but I'm going to humor him." Sam stared at the teenbot, jaw going slack at the completely disrespectful manner he'd mentioned Megatron. Then he forced that off.

"So, you're going to give me a tour, huh?" Sam said.

The teenbot nodded, a wary look on his face.

"So," Sam repeated, "Who are you anyway?"

A smug smile spread over the teenbot's face plates. "I was wondering when you'd ask…" Sam frowned, about to comment that he'd asked who he was several times, before being interrupted as the teenbot bowed mockingly. "I've gone by many names in the past-" Arrogant little prick, isn't he? Sam thought, "-But I suppose it won't hurt for you to call me… Vindico."

"Vindico," Sam repeated, then shuttered his optics as a translation appeared unbidden in his processor. "'Vengeance'?" He asked, disbelief and confusion lacing his voice. This guy _was_ an arrogant little prick.

The teenbot- Vindico- gave him a look. "Smartaft." He finally said.

Sam snorted and pushed that aside. "Takes one to know one," he said, and smirked at the expression that crossed Vindico's face. He placed his hands on his hips and cleared his vocalizer. "Where to first?" he asked.

Turning to the door, Vindico looked over his shoulder at the former human. "Follow me," He said, and walked out of the room. Sam was hot on his heels.

* * *

Typing on the screen, Megatron watched the data flow. He was sitting in a chair in the control room, a half-finished cube of energon beside him. His optics scanned over the data, looking for anomalies, for errors, for quirks and anything else that could signal what he needed to know. Finally he tapped the screen to pause it and sighed, rubbing his optics. It was looking like another long night. Just what he didn't need. And he was hoping to spend some time with Skyhunter tonight…

But this data wouldn't read himself, and he was the only one that was capable of understanding it. To all others, this data would look like gibberish, even if stated in logical terms. To him, as the AllSpark, it made sense like no other data he'd ever read. Tracking the sparks that were cast out at Mission City was proving tiresome… But if he wanted to save their race, he had to find as many of them as he could. Find them, change them, train them, those were the three steps to his program. With any luck, enough of those new Cybertronians would survive any possible battles and do what came naturally, thus reviving their kind.

Skyhunter was the first step, Megatron knew. Skyhunter was a test, the one destined to be leader of the new Cybertronians. If he could win him over, he could do anything.

But while he had plenty of time to do that, he didn't have plenty of time to find the humans given sparks. They would eventually grow old and die, and he needed as many of them as he could get a hold of if he wanted this to succeed.

With a sigh, Megatron brushed those thoughts off and began to read the data anew. Still, a new thought now emerged from his processor. He had left Skyhunter in a rush shortly after his creation had awakened from recharge due to his Master's summon. The Fallen was understandably unhappy about their situation, and Megatron couldn't fault his teacher for that. But what choice did they have? Sam had the rest of him hiding within his organic processor, and now it resided within him as his spark. In order to keep their kind alive, Megatron needed him, more than he needed to please his Master. It hurt to make that choice, to disobey the one that had given him so much in such a short period of time, but revenge had to be put on hold while their race was reformed. After that…

Pausing the data again, Megatron placed his helm in his claws. He'd asked his Master to try to imprint himself on Skyhunter, make his creation sympathetic towards them and the Decepticons as a whole. His Master… didn't want to. Megatron couldn't fault him for that any more than he could fault him for his disapproval in changing Sam Witwicky into Skyhunter. The Fallen had ultimately agreed to try, but warned that the Tyrant might have already imprinted on him himself, making any attempts of his own void and possibly dangerous. Megatron had tried to suggest a meeting between the three of them, but his Master had told him he'd need to try while he wasn't around. If he had imprinted on him…

The Fallen had agreed to take Skyhunter on a tour around the base, but that was a while ago… Did he decide to back out? Had the imprinting gone successfully? Or…

Two signals peaked over the horizon of his scanners. Megatron paused and glanced at the door. The signals came closer to the door, and Megatron smiled as he recognized both of them. Well, perhaps soon he'd discover how his Master was doing…

The two signals came to a stop at the door, and the door opened. Megatron heard the familiar sounds of his Master's footsteps and waited for a second set, but the door closed before another could come through the door. Megatron glanced at his Master's reflection in the screen he was viewing.

"How are you, Master?" Megatron asked.

The Fallen turned to him, and Megatron frowned at the sight of his exasperated and frustrated expression. "He sassed me." The Fallen hissed.

Megatron turned around in his seat to stare at his Master. "He did?" Megatron asked.

"Yes!" The Fallen said, nodding empathetically. "He sassed me, insulted me, and called me an 'asshole', whatever that is!" The Fallen shook his head, fury on his face. "You said he'd be easy for me to deal with!"

The Tyrant winced. He'd forgotten that the Fallen was a teenbot now thanks to his AllSpark energy, at least physically. Of course Sam wouldn't treat him the same way as he treated those older than him… "Master, I'm sorry, I assumed that he would behave the same around you as he did around me or the humans around him while he was still organic." Megatron sighed and shook his head, turning back to the screen. "I don't understand what happened… He's always been—"

"He's imprinted on you."

Megatron paused, staring at the screen before him, trying not to look at the image reflected within it. "He has?" He repeated.

"Without a doubt," The Fallen said, and Megatron heard him hoist himself up onto an empty spot on the terminals around the room. "I realized that soon after I tried to imprint on him. He identifies with you in a manner that should be unthinkable considering his situation. He got very upset when he thought I 'knew better than the one in charge', paraphrasing, of course." His Master sighed. "There is nothing I can do now. He has chosen you. Anything I do would just make things worse."

The gray mech exhaled softly through his vents. "There is nothing you can do?" Megatron repeated.

Despite his best attempts, Megatron still saw the Fallen's reflection shaking his head in the darkened screen. "I dare not try to imprint myself onto him. I might be blessed with powers beyond most's belief, but they came from your father, and I doubt the two energies would blend well, not with the rest of him stuck within that frame."

Wincing at the term for his predecessor, Megatron straightened up in his chair and glanced at the towering computer system before him. "So it's hopeless?"

His Master let out a bark of laughter. "Nothing is hopeless Megatron. While I might not be able to imprint on him, I can influence him in other ways. I have not lasted this long without knowing a few tricks to get a mech on my side. It will take time, of course," The Fallen added quickly, "I have never had much experience with teenbots, aside from that incident with the yellow one, but I doubt it will take long to make him see our side."

Megatron fought a depressed sigh, slumping back over the terminal. The Fallen clearly didn't remember any of the lessons they'd learned from Bumblebee's brief captivity, the biggest one being that teenbots never 'saw the side' of the ones in charge, especially when the ones in charge were his sworn enemies. On the other hand, now the Fallen was a teenbot like Skyhunter, if not unfortunately a little bit younger. Perhaps this would make Skyhunter more receptive to their message… But Megatron had that Horrible Feeling that his Master's age would be more of a hindrance than either of them were anticipating.

He forced that Feeling to the side and straightened up once more in his chair. Megatron glanced over his shoulder at his Master.

"You mentioned your powers..." Megatron started, "Have you been able to access them since our last check?"

The Fallen opened his mouth to respond, only to cringe as across the room a chair was thrown against the wall, landing onto a few hopefully already-ruined datapads. As the crunching sound faded, so did the confident look that Megatron was so used to seeing on his Master's face. Megatron sighed.

"I see," Megatron sighed.

His Master bit his lip. "Megatron, I am so happy your father was smart enough to make us Primes fully grown mechs instead of insisting we grow up as some must. I don't think I would have survived if I'd had to go through this back then."

Megatron nodded. "Yes," He said, "Things might have been very-"

"I don't want to think about it," The Fallen said, and for one bare moment Megatron thought his Master's voice trembled. "What's in the past is in the past, and no one can change what they've done. I just… Want to keep moving."

After a moment, Megatron nodded. "I understand, Master," He said, and he did. "With that said, if there's anything I can do to help-"

"Just-" The Fallen interrupted, and Megatron fell quiet. The Fallen inhaled. "Just keep the boy away from me after this unless we're together. I have enough to deal with trying to keep myself together in this situation without having to deal with him giving me an attitude." The Fallen turned quietly desperate optics to Megatron, and the Tyrant cringed. He didn't like that vulnerability… The Fallen didn't realize how dangerous things were for teenbots in this day and age… There were mechs on both sides that didn't know who his Master was, and wouldn't believe the truth if they heard it. His Master was a capable warrior, yes, but he'd relied on his powers alone for so long… If the wrong mech got his claws on him-!

Megatron had done much in his youth. He'd been recruited to raise Optimus so long ago, though they quickly became more than brothers when Optimus reached the appropriate age. For a long time Megatron had feared what would happen if someone tried to get to him through Optimus, what someone might do to Optimus while he was still a naïve young mech… He never thought that paternal fear would return to him through his Master.

"I will do my best, Master," Megatron said. "But I cannot keep an optic on him all the time."

"I understand," The Fallen said, and slipped off the terminal with his usual grace. Even being trapped at such an awkward age didn't seem to remove it. "I have my own ways to keep him away. For now, however…" The Fallen glanced at the door, and once again Megatron cringed at the wary dismay that laced his Master's expression.

"Do you want me to go with you?" Megatron asked.

The Fallen laughed again. "I appreciate the offer Megatron, but I fear that would make things worse, even if not immediately." His Master sighed, and for what Megatron hoped was the final time for this conversation he cringed. "I best be off then. I haven't even started showing Skyhunter around the base and I want to get this over with."

Megatron nodded slowly as his Master headed for the door. "I will see you tonight, Master," He said, and turned back to his screen. Raising a claw to activate the screen as the door opened, he jerked as the Fallen let out a screech. He spun around in his chair, half-rising in the process in case his Master had been attacked, only to immediately force down a relieved smile.

Skyhunter and the Fallen now lay in the doorway, Skyhunter firmly pressing his Master to the ground in a tangle of limbs, the Fallen's flames licking up Skyhunter's body. Neither spoke, staring at each other, mouths agape. After one long moment, the Fallen's face contorted into rage.

"What the slag are you doing you insolent little pest! ?" The Fallen shouted, his flames flaring as he writhed under the smaller mech's body. "Off! _Off_! _That__is__not__a__request_! Get off before I knock you through every wall in the base!"

Before the threat had even finished escaping his Master's mouth, Skyhunter was moving, scrambling off of the Fallen and towards Megatron. His back to his creator, Skyhunter inhaled noticeably.

"L-Look, Vindico, uh, I'm really sorry-" Skyhunter started, only to take another step back and land solidly in Megatron's chassis as the Fallen hissed again.

"Save it," The Fallen said, and pulled himself to his feet. Readjusting his armor, the Fallen turned his vicious gaze to Skyhunter, who once again cringed back into Megatron. Megatron felt his spark flare at the physical contact, more unwelcome thoughts returning to his processor. No, no, he couldn't get aroused in the same room as his Master, some mechs would appreciate having two teenbots all to themselves but Megatron was not that type, not with his Master!

"Once you get out of your little safe zone, I recommend you get over here," The Fallen said, "I haven't even shown you a fraction of what's on this base, and I can't do that when you're cowering with your creator." Skyhunter jumped against Megatron's frame and looked up with huge, almost innocent optics. Megatron met his gaze evenly, but his spark was racing, reaching for the smaller mech. Was their relationship incest? He suddenly wondered. Did it count as incest if one mech was the new AllSpark and the other was a former alien who held the true AllSpark within him? There were no easy answers these days, but then again, had there ever been easy answers for anyone?

"Go ahead, Skyhunter," Megatron said softly. "I trust him. He won't hurt you."

Skyhunter's full lips pulled down into a suspicious frown. Megatron said no more, continuing to give the former human a halfway hopeful gaze. Finally Skyhunter sighed and turned back to his Master, who Megatron noted with amusement had his arms crossed over his chassis and was tapping his foot impatiently. Megatron felt Skyhunter straighten his shoulders and watched as the teenbot walked over to the Fallen, who turned back to the door. His Master hissed something and shoved Skyhunter towards the door, then followed. Before the door closed on their backs, the Fallen looked over his shoulder at Megatron one last time, vulnerability once more written there. Then, the door closed and he was alone with his work once more.

* * *

He hated teenbots he hated teenbots, he hated teenbots! Yes, the Fallen knew his hate was inwardly directed as well as outwardly directed. After all, he was now as much a teenbot as the one he was guiding around this now oddly larger base. But he hated it. He hated being a teenbot, he hated not having access to his powers, he hated his diminutive size and most of all he hated Skyhunter Prime! Not that the mech was aware of being a Prime, but the Fallen digressed.

Walking beside the smaller mech to their next destination, the Fallen felt his red optics being dragged once more to Skyhunter. He scanned the mech from top to bottom, from the crown-like helm, so similar to Megatron's and yet not, to the fangs that poked out from Skyhunter's mouth, the silver glossa that occasionally, unknowingly slipped out to lick over the metal protrusions, and downwards, to the firm yet smooth chassis and elegantly spiked shoulders, the sturdy arms and Decepticon insignia on his clavicle, the tiny markings that ran up and down the grooves on his abdomen, the wide hips, the sharp claws, the strong stabilizers that carried the younger mech with a grace the Fallen was envious of… The Fallen forced his optics away, wincing as that feeling grew stronger in his chassis.

He couldn't quite explain what he was feeling right now… When Skyhunter had fallen on top of him after leaning on the door, it set off lightning through his frame, made his spark flare in a manner that the Fallen had never felt before. The more the Fallen examined the newly created mech, the stronger the lightning became within him, the hotter his spark casing seemed to get, the more his whole body seemed to tingle and twitch as if preparing for something... The Fallen was an experienced mech in many ways, but there were some things he didn't know about, things that would have been beneath him as a Prime or were simply unknown in the time he originated in. Yes, he'd noticed this feeling before, after discovering some human fetish websites… But what a fetish was in relation to him and his race, he couldn't understand.

The Fallen forced that thought to the side. He'd ask Megatron what was happening to him later, once he was finished being a tour guide and gotten safely away from this little pest. Besides, this feeling didn't last forever. A good dose of heat got rid of it like a charm, which presumably meant it wasn't a symptom of some kind of horrible wasting virus. Or was it? Once again, the Fallen pushed that thought to the side.

"So, where are we, exactly?" Skyhunter asked. The Fallen glanced over at him, trying to keep focusing on the mech's face and not his chassis, his deadpan look clear on his face. Skyhunter looked over at him and went on. "I mean, where is the base itself? There are no windows in here, are we even still on Earth?"

With an exaggerated sigh, the Fallen began to explain in simple, easily understood terms, inwardly relieved at the distraction. Anything was better than those odd thoughts, the odd desire to run his hands down the grooves in Skyhunter's abdomen, the memory of those odd, heated dreams about struggling against and being pinned down by a strange, strong blue mech with optics filled with understandable rage, the ones that had haunted him since Megatron's revival…

Then again, any distraction was better than remembering a dream about being killed by Optimus Prime, now wasn't it?

*TBC*

* * *

Interesting euphemisms much Fallen? I really don't think those dreams were about dying in a traditional sense, if you know what I mean… Not that you probably would…  
Yeah, guys, the Fallen is going to be Sam's friend! Sam needed one and honestly, so does the Fallen right now, as much as he's loathe to admit it, so I decided to stick them together. And by the way, in case you haven't already guessed, I'm going to be tormenting the Fallen in this fic through every channel I can get. You've already seen his interaction with Sam… Just wait till you see him when he first meets Optimus…

Anyway, I hope you enjoyed this chapter, and I hope to see you either on the 25th or May 2nd!

~Jason


	4. Notice about Delay

Hey guys, it's me, Jason. Yeah, I know, presumably by the time I finally upload this Dark Desire chapter 4 will be several days late, if not more, but I wanted to get this off my chest before I go any further. I knew I shouldn't have posted Dark Desire when I did, I had that feeling in my gut, but I didn't imagine the scope of the 'why' of that feeling.

I'm sure everyone by this point has heard of the Tornado Emergency down in the South-Eastern United States? 300+ causalities, mostly in Alabama? Yeah, well, I live in Alabama. I'm alive, thankfully, and so is my father, my brother and sister, my cat, my neighbors and everyone in my general area. However, I can't quite express to you how lucky I was.

I live in the Eastern part of the state. I did my normal things the day before the Emergency and went to bed super-late. I was in the middle of an awesome dream when my Dad woke me up. The rest of the day was spent staring at the television at the weather, hearing horror stories about what was going on. My Dad told me to pack up what I loved, and I did so, bringing down all the canned food in my house into the basement and a few changes of clothes for each of us, and making a back-up copy of my computer data on my external hard drive, just in case. I can't forget my Dad saying, "You need to get ready, it's coming." At least we got that warning.

Keep in mind, these were mile and a half wide tornadoes. I repeat, _mile-and-a-half-wide-tornadoes_. What they didn't hit physically, they barraged with debris, everything from personal items to clothing to insulating foam. Yes, the pink stuff they put in your house to keep it warm, they were finding this stuff _everywhere_. My Dad and I got under the stairs and we listened to the rain through the brick wall and we waited. The power went out. I held my breath and the backpack with my things and waited. Luckily for us, we didn't get hit. The rain stopped, my Dad's cell phone finally gave us the all-clear, and we climbed out into the night. The power was off for five hours or so, the internet since hasn't worked properly, but I'm just glad I'm still on this Earth to talk about what happened. A lot of people in the surrounding counties aren't. Every county around us was on full red alert for tornadoes, but as far as I'm aware, not a single death happened in my county.

I'm sure by the time I finally post this notice the death toll will have climbed higher. I'll make notes where I can, but leave this intact. It could be days before the internet stabilizes enough for me to post this, but I had to get this off my chest while it was fresh. It's 3:09 AM on 4/30/11, and only now can I really think about what's happened to my state. I know there was damage and lives taken in other states, I saw the radar on my Dad's cell phone, but Alabama has been my home for 18 years, and while I don't really like this place, it's still my home.

There are no words for what happened here. Those tornadoes did more than just tear apart cities and families, it tore apart an entire state. I don't have many people to ask about what they feel about what happened a few days ago, but if I know anything about humanity in general, I know everyone's asking "Why?" "Why us?" "Why here?" "Why not?" "Why my family?" "Why my daughter?" "Why my son?" "Why my parents?" "Why us?" If these people are anything like me, they live in this state because they have family here, deep-rooted connections here, and because Alabama is moderately _safe_ from natural disasters. The only place safer according to my father is Arizona, where the only thing you have to worry about naturally is flash-flooding, but the man-made dangers were too great for my Dad to move us back there when I was small. Yeah, Alabama gets the occasional tornado, but it's small stuff, they don't last long, they never hit any big areas and they never leave this kind of damage. "Why?" One of the things that drives me crazy the most about this state is how deeply religious it is. I'm sure we've all heard about the current governor telling a congregation that only Christians were his brothers and sisters, well, that may have shocked the world, but there's not an Alabamian that was surprised. That's how it's done here, whether we admit it or not. At the same time though, my heart still aches for those left behind in this tragedy. Some of them are going to be asking their God questions that He's not gonna be able to answer, or simply won't answer, and they're gonna turn away. I may not be Christian, but it still hurts to see deep-rooted, if not occasionally blind, faith be torn up by its roots and thrown to the side like a ragdoll. I'm sorry Alabama. You, and we, didn't deserve this. I don't care what anyone says, we don't deserve this. And if we did do something horrid, something so terrible that the only way to repent was to take the lives of hundreds of innocents, well, then what did we do? And why wasn't there another way to make us see our wrongs, instead of tearing apart so many families, both by blood and by emotion? This isn't fair, life isn't fair, but we didn't deserve this!

I'm sure you can guess what line is coming next, but we do need your help. I'm sure the Red Cross is doing something, I'm sure dozens of charities are lining up to help, but they can't do anything without people like you. I'm going to be doing my part however I can, but we need you guys too. I don't care how you help. Money, food, loving thoughts, prayers, I don't give a damn, but don't forget us. Yeah, our reputation is terrible to all those outside the state, and in some cases, Alabama probably deserves to be called the Bible-thumper state and Alabamians Jesus Freaks in all the wrong ways, but still. What have we done wrong in the eyes of some higher authority to deserve this? Why do some have to survive and be forced to remember the ones we have to leave behind? There is no fairness in life, but there can be fairness in humanity, of that I have no doubt. Please don't prove me wrong.

I may or may not leave this message up when I finally do update Dark Desire. It depends on what my friends say about this, I could simply replace this message with Chapter 4. However, in the meantime, remember us. I probably don't have to send this message, but again, I had to get this off my chest. Maybe I won't post this after all. Maybe just venting will do it's good. But if I do…

Remember us. Don't leave us in the dark.

See you next chapter,

~Jason

P.S: About to post this on 5/5/11, and would like to mention something I hadn't already in this message: I have no idea when I'm going to be able to get back to Dark Desire. I have a block I need to work through, but I'm going to try. My deadline, so to speak, is up in the air. Apparently there is something I need to talk to you guys about involving this story, so while this message is up, I'll ask you:

Should I move Dark Desire's updates to Fridays? I know that Mondays are hectic to people, and if I had thought about it more, I would have waited for Friday to come before I posted the first chapter again. Posting chapters on Friday would be easier on me, because I'd have a bit more time to work on it, and you guys, who might even get a chance to review on the weekend. I don't think you guys really understand how irritating and unnerving it is for me to see a hundred-plus hits on each chapter and 3 reviews by the time the next chapter comes out. That, to me, means I'm doing something wrong, either chronologically, which I can fix by changing the update date, or with the fic itself… Which I can't fix.

I know I sound horribly needy and bitchy, but I'm tired of writing stories that I get no feedback on. I don't mind the standard old 'good chapter' bullshit, it's better than not reviewing at all, but if moving Dark Desire's updates to Fridays doesn't fix things, I'm not even gonna bother updating frequently anymore since nobody appreciates the fact that I twist my teeth trying to get these chapters updated on a semi-regular basis. Look at my other stories. They haven't been updated in months, some of them in _years_. Now look at this fic, which I've updated every two weeks except for this little incident. Do you think that means I'm super-inspired on it? NO, that means I'm trying to discipline myself and cater to my readers for once instead of leaving them and my characters hanging. I don't want to be worshipped, I don't want people kissing my ass, I just want a little appreciation for my hard work. But I digress.

I will be leaving this note up after all, so leave me a review saying if it'll be easier on you or if you'd like it more if I updated on Fridays instead of Mondays, or you can vote in my poll on my profile on the subject. I'll be combining the results, so don't be afraid to do both!

See you next chapter!


	5. Chapter 4

Hey everyone, it is Late-Thirty, and do I have a surprise for you! Yes people, Dark Desire Chapter 4 is HERE! As you doubtlessly already knew, otherwise you wouldn't be reading this. (Sorry, like I said, late-thirty, with The Demanding Cat Who Demands Attention hovering next to me and purring and keeping me from thinking constructively. But I ramble now.) This chapter should be a treat for you guys – 19 pages long! Not counting my A/Ns, of course, but… It was actually going to be a bit longer (by several more pages), but my brain shut down on how to bring in the next part, so I said eff it. Consider this longer chapter a thank you for putting up with this, um, four month long hiatus O_o I swear, I did NOT mean to be away for so long… But I digress.

One thing I should mention before we begin the chapter… There is a chance the next or the one after it chapter will have a smutty MegaSam scene, and there's a chance the chapter after that will have full-out smut. I'll try to avoid this if I can, as I have NO experience writing sparksex, and am really not quite sure what's normal for sparksex right now, but, just in case I do end up having to write it, if you're familiar with sparksex, drop me a review or a PM and let me in on what you know.

So, without further review, on with the fic!

* * *

**Title**: Dark Desire  
**Series**: Transformers  
**Rating**: M  
**Genre**: Romance/Drama  
**Characters**: Sam W. and Megatron  
**Summary**: AU Two halves cannot become a whole until they are joined together. Megatron has plans for the future, and it's not like Sam has a choice in the matter.  
**Disclaimer**: I do not own Transformers and I do not own the Cthuhlu mythos. The former belongs to Hasbro and Michael Bay, the latter belongs to H. P. Lovecraft's estate. And yes, I do know what the Cthuhlu mythos is in the public domain, but I like to give credit where credit's due.  
**Warnings**: Even more pottymouth Sam, a nice little kiss with him and Megatron, characters stolen from other incarnations of Transformers shown and implied, near-death experiences for the win, I fail at writing non-standard dialogue, Lovecraftian references also for the win, and special guest star Unicron joining me in my attempts to make the Fallen absolutely miserable: AKA physical Fallen torture instead of merely verbal. I am going to have to do something seriously good to him at some point to make up for what's happened here.  
**Dedications**: MissMary, for proofreading; My Sunshine, for never giving up hope of me continuing this fic; Aden/13IsTaLkThEaKaTsUkI13 for letting me bounce ideas off her; mimifoxlove for reading the original version of this chapter and helping me through a few things; The AntiCoolant for sending a review about how dumbfounded s/he was at the 'coupling' in chapter 1. I never fail to laugh at it whenever I read it.  
AND YOU LOVELY PEOPLE FOR PUTTING UP WITH ME!

* * *

His optics onlining with a flash, Sam inhaled deep through his vents as he awoke. Struggling to catch his breath after the horrible nightmare, he slowly relaxed his grip on the sheets and rolled over to stare at the ceiling, the nightmarish face gloating down at him fading before he could acknowledge what it was saying or why it was saying it. He hated when that happened.

It had been two days since Megatron had turned him into a Cybertronian. That was what his internal clock said, at least. Sam hadn't been able to get off-ship see if that was true. Since first speaking in Cybertronian, the Decepticons as a whole cringed away from him. They spoke to him only when they had to, their tones always masked, always trying to hide an undercurrent of fear. At all other times, they avoided him. And he had no idea why. What was with his voice that made the Decepticons, of all people, fear him?

The other thing that bothered him… He hadn't seen Vindico since the teenbot showed him around the base. He'd searched everywhere, looking into every nook and cranny that the teenbot had shown him, but there was no sign of him. Had he left the base? The teenbot certainly had puffed himself up as this big man, er, mech, on base, but was he telling the truth? If he was, that might explain it. But then again, he'd seen Starscream frequently, so…

The berth shifted, a low groan coming from beside him. Sam shuttered his optics at the sound and rolled over onto his side to get a better look at Megatron.

In two days, Sam hadn't had the chance to speak to the Tyrant about if he'd ever get his own quarters. In fact, he hadn't had the chance to speak to Megatron much at all- Megatron was never around when he needed him. He was busy, apparently- Sam had overheard things in the halls. Apparently Megatron was looking for something, but what?

But now, he recharged, his face peaceful. Sam shuddered at the sight. It wasn't right for something as malicious as Megatron to look peaceful… Actually, a lot of the looks he'd seen Megatron wear recently just weren't right. He'd seen Megatron at Mission City, heard horror stories about what he'd done during the war… Peace, sad contemplation, gentle smiles did not sync up with what Sam knew about this living war machine.

But at the same time… The hole in Megatron's spark… Sam got chills just thinking about that. To have a hole in your soul… Was that the reason for the changes in Megatron? Was the chunk of him missing the part of him that made him malicious? Urk! That was even worse than Megatron having a hole in his soul! Megatron wanted to be whole, that much was clear. The Tyrant hadn't shown him his spark to show off, he wanted to prove how much he wanted the rest of his power back… But if he became whole… If he got the rest of his power back… Would the Megatron from Mission City return?

"What are you thinking about?"

Holy sla-! Sam jumped, his mind forced back to reality at the sound of Megatron's voice. Turning his attention back to the mech beside him, Sam frowned nervously as his red optics met Megatron's matching ones.

"…You," Sam said.

Megatron smiled, and once again Sam fought a cringe. "I thought that might be it," the Tyrant said, and the smile began to fade. "You had that look on your face again."

Sam winced. _That__look_. He knew that term. Optimus used it to describe a certain expression he got whenever he was told anything especially bad about Megatron's actions during the Cybertronian Civil War. The Prime had described it as somewhere between fear and torment, and seeing it on his face was generally his clue to change the subject, and no protesting on Sam's part would change his mind about it. Not that there were many times when Sam didn't want a change in topic.

But this was Megatron he was dealing with. Not Optimus, _Megatron_. A changed Megatron at that, clearly, one who wasn't nearly as violent and more… Sam wasn't sure how to describe him. How did Megatron feel when Sam got that look on his face, and knew Sam was thinking about him? Maybe he should apologize.

"Megatron, I'm-" Sam started.

"You can't help it, Skyhunter," Megatron interrupted with such a force Sam winced again. Those red optics softened and the Tyrant reached over with his good hand for Sam's face. Sam allowed the elder mech to cradle his head in his claws, the only sign of his fear being his spark racing in his chassis. "You can't help it," Megatron repeated. "Had I had time, I would have tried to draw you into this world on terms you and your friends would have agreed with, but…" He shook his head, regret lining his features.

The teenbot jolted at the mention of the Autobots. For the three days he'd been at the Decepticon base, Megatron hadn't mentioned the Autobots or the war once. It was like he existed in a vacuum, where only they existed. Had Megatron been anyone else, and had Sam been a teenage girl, that thought would have been considered romantic… But Sam _wasn__'__t_ a teenage girl, he _was_ dealing with Megatron, and Megatron ignoring the war just wasn't right!

"What about the war?" Sam asked.

Megatron's gaze changed from regret to confusion. "What about it?"

The question was a bit like getting smacked in the face. Sam stared at Megatron with jaw agape, not exactly sure what to say. "I-I mean, i-is it still going on? The Autobots think so, that's why Optimus asked me to come back with him to the base. They're ready to fight you if they have to, they just-"

"The war is on hold."

Sam jolted. On hold? What the slag did that mean? You didn't put a war 'on hold' for your convenience, you won wars or you lost wars or you started wars or you continued wars, which is what Megatron had been doing for the past god knows how many years. And why would Megatron want to put the war on hold anyway? Why didn't he want to finish it? Didn't he want to win?

Before Sam could stop himself, the questions flowed.

"What do you mean 'the war is on hold'! ? Why? Do the other Decepticons know about this? What do you think Optimus is going to think about this? What does this have to do with you kidnapping-"

A warm body pressed against his smaller frame, lips framing a mouth full of teeth capturing his own. Sam's mind and thought process grinded to a halt as a slick glossa slipped inside his mouth, so much like that hard first night in Megatron's berth it hurt. But… It wasn't so bad. Sam slowly relaxed into the kiss, submitting to the pings the feeling sent through his frame. After a long moment of exploring, Megatron pulled away, his optics burning a deep rose red.

"I'm sorry, Skyhunter," Megatron said, "But I can't explain right now. Tonight, if I have a chance, yes, but not right now. I still need time." An odd look passed over the Tyrant's face. "I know I can't ask you to trust me, but…"

His spark twitched hard once more, and without really realizing it, Sam wrapped his arm around Megatron's shoulder. "I'll do my best," Sam whispered, and smiled. "So long as you promise to explain as soon as you can."

Relief spread over Megatron's face. "I promise," Megatron said, and rested his forehead on Sam's. Staring into Megatron's optics, Sam kept smiling, not really aware of it. It was amazing how a simple metal and crystal part could show such emotion, such intellect, such…

Wait, why was he staring into Megatron's optics again?

"I have to go," Megatron said, and pulled away. As the giant mech rolled off the berth, Sam sat up, watching as the gray mech headed towards the door.

Sam's spark twitched again. "Where are you going?" He asked, his body aching to follow Megatron outside.

"I have to check on something," Megatron said. He glanced over his shoulder and smiled. Sam tried to hide the cringe. "Stay here. I'll be back soon." Megatron pressed a button by the side of the door, and it opened. He stepped through, and as the door closed Sam saw him already walking away.

Sam sat up fully and threw his legs over the side, folding his hands together in thought. Now what? He thought. The events moments before churned in his mind. Put the war on hold? Why? And the kiss… Sam shuddered. He _liked_ that kiss, his body reacted to it in a way it had never reacted to Mikaela. He'd spent a good portion of his life pining over that girl, and now this. Sam gulped down the rock in his vocalizer. Was he going to end up pining over Megatron of all people now? Was this what Stockholm Syndrome was like?

Sam forced his mind back to the topic at hand. There had to be some reason to put the war on hold… Some reason that Megatron wasn't sharing… And the kiss… Damn it Sam stop thinking about the kiss!

He needed answers, Sam realized. Megatron was as cryptic as they came, but there had to be someone that could understand him, someone who could see through the façade into what he really was like…

_Vindico_.

That was the answer. He had to find Vindico. If the teenbot knew as much about the base and the Decepticons as he implied, then he'd have to know at least a little about Megatron, right? Sam sat up and stood, then headed for the door.

The trouble was… actually finding the pesky 'bot.

Sam decided to check the training room first. The only one there was a mech called Thrust, who stammered that he hadn't seen Vindico anywhere. Sam then checked the entryways to their base, but they were either abandoned or occupied by more people that hadn't seen the teenbot. Warily Sam checked the rec room, only to be immediately driven out by what the assembled mechs were watching on the holoplayer. Room after room, area after area, and not a single person had seen the slippery teenbot. Now leaning over the railing on the balcony that overlooked the pseudo throne room, Sam sighed. It was getting to the point where Sam was starting to think that everyone _had_ seen Vindico, but for whatever reason they didn't want to talk about it. If his gut was any indication, Vindico was juuust important enough to be able to order the other Decepticons to not talk about his comings and goings.

Vindico was avoiding him. Just what he didn't need.

Turning his attentions to his claws, Sam clenched and unclenched his fists. He turned his hand around to look at the sharp protrusions that apparently would cover his knuckles if he punched someone in the face. Would he ever have to punch someone? Would he ever have to fight? Sam shivered at that thought. Megatron had said he'd be giving him some kind of 'stimulus' to fight for him… The claw that he'd been staring at moved to clutch onto the railing. Was Megatron really going to try and turn him against his friends…?

Or were the Autobots going to turn against him?

Leaning against the railing in thought, Sam heard a low metallic groan. He glanced around, catching a glimpse of a bluish robot approaching him, before the railing gave way.

It happened too fast for him to even think about what he was going to do. It happened too fast for him to think at all, really. One minute he was on relatively solid ground, the next he was falling. Sam saw Megatron's so-called throne below him, the sharp angled spikes of the makeshift chair glinting in the low light around the room, and automatically offlined his optics.

Something long, thick, and tight snapped around his right ankle. Sam yelped, his optics onlining with a flash. Once again he was faced with the sight of Megatron's throne, still sharp, still angular, still probably uncomfortable to sit in, but he wasn't skewered by the sharp poles that decorated the royal object.

He was still alive.

What the hell?

For the first time, a full understanding of what had just happened hit him. He'd just fallen off the balcony! The groan of the railing still echoed in Sam's ears, a headache began to creep around the sides of his processor…

But he was alive.

He was alive.

How?

Sam glanced over his right shoulder. The long thick cable that now wrapped around his ankle was silver… Maybe it was just him but it seemed to be comprised of several smaller cables. He glanced back down at the throne, only to yelp again as another cable wrapped around his left ankle, then two more at once around his middle and shoulders. Holding very, very still, Sam felt the cables pull him upwards, back towards the railing. The throne got smaller, the glints on the spikes changing as he was moved, until finally they faded from sight altogether as he was pulled all the way over the railing.

The cables stayed tight on his limbs as Sam caught his breath, kneeling on the floor. Sam kept red optics on the floor, panting despite himself. That was close… Way too close. Sam glanced at the hole in the railing where he'd fallen through, and shuddered at the size of it. A mech almost twice his size could have fallen through that hole, and that would have been as much the end of them as it almost had been for him.

The cables that wrapped around his frame finally began to loosen. Sam turned his head away from the hole in the railing to watch as the cables released him… Divided into smaller cables revealing pronged ends… And pulled away from his frame. Sam followed their paths with his optics, standing as they all pulled away, recalling back into a darkish blue mech.

… What?

Sam shuttered his optics as the last of the cables that had wrapped around his left leg were pulled back into the foreign Decepticon. Sam looked the mech up and down, confusion written on his face plates. Dark blue mech, on the scary side like most of the other Cons… Face mask… Visor… Tentacles…

… Wait…

…Trust the Decepticons to have the tentacle monster on their side. Sam stared at the mech who'd saved him. What should he do now? This mech had… saved him obviously. Had it not been for him, he would have been speared by Megatron's throne. But…

The teenbot cleared his throat, and automatically spoke in Cybertronian. "Uh… Hey, thanks," He said, and flinched as the mech shifted. Great job Sam, you just traumatized another one. He really needed to find a way to fix that-

"Gratitude: Appreciated, unneeded."

Sam jolted as the Decepticon spoke… He _had_ to have spoken, there was no one else around that could've. But that voice… That wasn't anything like the others'… It wasn't even bothering to try and attempt an Earthen speaking format… The tones were flatter than the others too. Pushing aside that surprise, Sam made himself smile.

"It may be, um, unneeded, but I'm going to say it anyway. You saved my life…" Sam glanced back at the hole in the railing and fought a shudder. Then he cleared his vocalizer. "I know this isn't the norm among the Decepticons, but, if there's anything I can do to help you…" Wait, what if he was breaking some kind of unspoken rule among the Decepticons? Nothing he could do now. "I mean, you did…"

The mech lowered his head for a moment, and spoke again. "Help: Will ask for. Currently: Unneeded."

"Oh…" Sam said. He glanced away. Now what? He rubbed his right arm in thought. He hadn't seen this guy around here before… Maybe he wasn't here for the past two days… Maybe he'd just landed… Maybe he should introduce himself. "My name's-"

"Skyhunter: Your designation is."

Sam couldn't help but jump. "H-How did you-! ?"

Maybe it was just Sam, but the mech almost seemed like he was smiling as his spoke, even if his tones were as flat as before. "You: Notorious. Decepticons: Most already know."

"… Oh." Sam shifted. "So… Most of you guys already know… That makes sense." He was Megatron's… Whatever. Creation, yeah, he'd go with that for now.

"Designation: Soundwave."

Turning his attention back to the Decepticon, er, Soundwave, Sam smiled. "Well, it's a pleasure to meet you Soundwave. I'm really glad you were here right now…" Now wasn't that the understatement of the week?

Once again Soundwave seemed to be smiling, but maybe that was just him. "You: Seeking what?"

Wha? "Excuse me?"

Soundwave's expression changed to annoyance. How that was possible when his whole face was covered Sam wasn't sure, nor was he sure about how he seemed to be reading his moods. Sam pushed that down as Soundwave spoke again.

"Decepticons: Conversations overheard." Soundwave said. "You: Seek something. You: Seeking what?"

"Oh," Sam's shoulders sagged. That's right. He turned away from Soundwave to look at the door all the way across the room where official visitors would go to greet Megatron. "I was looking for Vindico."

Soundwave tilted his head to the side. "Vindico: Who is?"

Sam's head turned back to look at Soundwave. "Y-You mean, you don't know him?"

Silently the mech shook his head. Sam turned back to the door. Apparently Vindico wasn't as well-known as he puffed himself up to be. Or Soundwave knew him by another term. Hopefully it was the latter, not the former.

"He's the other teenbot on base," Sam said, "Y'know, the one that's on fire?"

The blue mech shifted loudly enough for Sam to hear. "Him: Why seek?"

Still not looking at Soundwave, Sam said, "Megatron's up to something. He's being very… cryptic, I guess that's the word, and I don't like it." Sam sighed. "I'm looking for someone who understands him as well as he does. Vindico's certainly puffed himself up as knowing a lot about the way things work around here, and he locked himself in with Megatron in the control room a few days ago, so he must know _something_, right?"

"Affirmative."

That made Sam look over at Soundwave. His optics scanned over the friendly Decepticon, noting the odd tenseness in his frame, the curled fingers as if ready to make into fists. "What's wrong?" Sam asked.

"You: Entering danger." Soundwave said. The mech lifted his head to look at him, and for the first time Sam realized he was actually looking directly at him. "Vindico: Dangerous mech. Trifle: Not with him."

Sam shuttered his optics at the statement. "Vindico… Dangerous? Ha!" Oh _that_ was a laugh! "Yeah, I'll believe it when I see it. That guy couldn't fight his way out of a paper bag, though he sure as hell could use those bellows for lungs and blab his way out of danger. It's about all they're good for."

For a moment, Soundwave didn't answer. "Path: Yours set?"

Sam noticed the question in Soundwave's voice and nodded. "I have to find him." He said. "If he's telling the truth-"

"Truth: He is telling. Truth: Soundwave telling." Soundwave looked at him again. "Monitoring Panel: Offline?"

"… My what?" Sam asked.

Soundwave exhaled loudly through his vents. "Diagnostic System: Offline?"

"Uh…" His processor scrambled to find an appropriate translation for the two terms he'd just used. 'Monitoring Panel' and 'Diagnostic System' were close, but somehow the term seemed to mean a lot more. New information was pinging through his system, words he knew like 'zoom in', 'targeting system' and 'scanners' used in ways that Sam figured only a native to Cybertron would understand. "You mean, a lot of the stuff I should have I currently can't access?"

Soundwave nodded. "Megatron: Kept systems offlined. Awakening: Yours disastrous. Awakening: Unavoidably traumatic."

Sam fought down the automatic, human desire to gulp nervously at Soundwave's statements. Stay calm Sam, he's not trying to freak you out, he told himself. "Yeah, I think I can see where Megatron was coming from…" He glanced away from Soundwave back to the door, and rubbed his right arm. "So, uh, is there any way for us to online my, uh, systems?" He turned back to Soundwave as he spoke the last word, only to yelp as he found himself face to face with one of the mech's tentacles. Fuuuuuu-!

"Online: Manually." Soundwave said.

… Manually? Sam glanced warily around the tentacle at the bluish mech. Well, yes, manually _would_ mean tentacle rape with him, now wouldn't it? He bit the inside of his metal cheek, trying not to show his unease.

"Activation: Mostly instantaneous." Soundwave said as if in reassurance, then paused. After a moment he added, "Activation: Mostly painless."

The former human's optic ridges rose at the second statement. "… _Mostly_ painless?" Sam asked.

Soundwave made an odd noise, like radio static or white noise on a TV… Did he just clear his throat? "Soundwave: Hacker. Soundwave: Not a medic. Systems: Onlined by brute force. Pain: Not impossible."

Not impossible, huh? Better than 'possible' or 'without a doubt', but still far from comforting. Sam bit his lip and rubbed his arm with his hand again.

"So, uh…" He glanced around at nothing as he spoke. "Shouldn't we get a medic to do it then?" Wait, what did he just say! ? "I mean, it's not that I don't think you're capable of it or that you're gonna hurt me or you're gonna accidentally screw up my systems or anything like that, I just don't want to end up even worse off than I was before! I mean, you didn't say that there would be side-effects, just a little pain, but pain is as bad as glitching and-"

The tentacle rapped him solidly on the nose. Sam let out a yelp and stumbled back, automatically reaching up to protect his vulnerable body part. As the surprise faded and the sting increased, Sam rubbed his nose and looked at Soundwave in confusion. For all his lack of facial features, Soundwave seemed to be smiling a little.

Soundwave raised his shoulders as if in a human shrug. Huh, you didn't see that every day in this place. "Apologies: Sincere." The light humor that had emanated from the faceless mech faded away, replaced by what Sam could only describe as a frown. "Medic: Not an option. Medic: On base. Medic: Cause irreparable damage to you."

"Uh… huh?" Sam frowned himself. "And, uh, how would he do that, exactly? I mean, does he experiment on other Decepticons or throw things like Ratchet or…?"

The featureless mech's gaze turned from him to the door that led to this platform. "Medic: One of _those_." Soundwave said, as if that explained every-

_Ooooooooooh_. Now he got it. Sam frowned. Theoretically speaking, every Decepticon on this base could be, as Soundwave put it, 'one of those'. After all, femmes were hard to come by in this era of Cybertronian existence. All Cybertronians were bisexual by choice if only for that, if not by nature. And yet… For Soundwave to explicitly call this medic gay… Sam shuddered. Yeah. He'd like to delay meeting this one for as long as possible. If he hadn't already. It would be so much easier to figure out which Con did what if they'd just _speak __to__ him_!

After a moment, Sam clapped his hands together. "So, uh, with that cleared up…" He looked at Soundwave. "Should we do this here? Or do you want to move somewhere else?"

The bluish mech's head tilted slightly to the side as he thought. Then he gestured towards an isolated section of the platform far from the hole Sam had fallen through. Sam examined the area as he followed Soundwave towards it. It wasn't very special compared to the throne room below them. Stacked with Cybertronian chairs, a few of what equated to mattresses to Cybertronians, junk that the Decepticons didn't need any more or didn't want to deal with. It did not look sterile _at__all_.

Unconsciously, Sam gulped.

Soundwave gestured Sam towards one of the mattresses propped up against the wall. Sam stood before it, watching as the Decepticon re-extended the tentacle he'd rapped Sam on the nose with, or another one that looked just like it. Honestly they all looked exactly the same, at least the ones Sam had seen. Maybe Soundwave had more of them inside him that he hadn't shown and then the tentacle was moving behind him, still at neck-level. As the prongs of the tentacle hovered behind his neck, Sam tensed as he felt a port he hadn't dreamed could be there opening. He looked straight at Soundwave.

"Uh, how's having my system on going to change things? I mean, what am I going to have access to?" Soundwave shrugged again, and impatience rolled off him. Sam flinched. "Is it going to change my vision any? Or-Or-"

The impatience vanished for a moment. Soundwave tilted his head backwards. Then, he spoke again.

"FPS."

Sam shuttered his optics at the mech. "Frames per se-?"

Sam's world went white.

The first thing he knew was the tingling in the tips of his servos. The tingling then spread back upwards to his shoulders and chest, then worked its way downwards until there wasn't a single wire, joint, coolant line or plate that wasn't alive with it. The only part of his body numb to it was his processor, and that was because it was replaced by a kind of pounding that wouldn't be out of place in a club. Sam shuttered his optics. His world was still white, but before he could remember why, the tingling faded simultaneously all over his frame, and Sam finally registered that he was lying down on an abandoned mattress, soft with age. His servos and legs twitched in time with his spark pulse, but stopped as Sam shifted, raising his right hand to cradle his helm. Shuttering his optics a few more times, the pounding also faded, along with the white in his vision. As his vision finally returned, Sam understood what Soundwave had meant.

His vision now looked like something out of a first person shooter. On the side of his vision were his vitals, information about his spark pulse and anti-virus and several other subjects conveyed in the form of bars, numbers, and symbols. On the other side, at the bottom of his vision was a mostly blank area that Sam's information processor identified as dealing with his weapons system. So it was offline. Above it, at the top of his vision, was his Decepticon status. Aside from his name and the Decepticon symbol, nothing was there. The rest of the section was filled with the Cybertronian version of question marks. So his systems didn't know what was going on any better than he did. Somehow Sam wasn't surprised.

Something moved in front of him, crouching down before him. Sam lifted his head to look at Soundwave. How long had he been out? A target appeared in his vision and locked onto Soundwave's face. Beside it, information spilled out about the mech that had helped online his systems. At one bit of information, Sam's optics paled to pink around the edges.

"You're Third in Command of the Decepticons?" Sam asked.

Soundwave smiled a crooked smile and nodded. Sam shuttered his optics again. He'd heard about Soundwave, now that he thought about it. Optimus had mentioned Megatron's brutally loyal Third in Command several times, never explicitly saying his name, as if speaking it would summon the Decepticon to the NEST base. Sam supposed he couldn't blame Optimus for that; Apparently Soundwave was the one responsible for the chain of events that led to Optimus executing Prowl… And that was only one of the things that Optimus stated he was involved in. Other activities were more implied to have involved Soundwave rather than his presence being outright stated.

So… Why did Soundwave help him? Why did he help a former Autobot human? Soundwave clearly knew who he was, so why did…? A thousand other questions hit him at the same time, why had Soundwave managed to show up just in time to save his life, had he explicitly come looking for him, why hadn't he suggested explaining things about Megatron instead of helping him find Vindico, did he even want to help him at all or did Megatron order him to help? As those questions bounced around his processor, Sam finally settled on the easiest one to ask:

"What?"

The smile grew wider, but still Soundwave said nothing. Instead, the bluish mech extended his hand to help Sam up. Sam took Soundwave's hand without hesitating, swaying as Soundwave stood from his crouch and brought Sam up with him. A large hand on his shoulder steadied Sam, and he shuttered his optics a few times before turning to look at Soundwave with a smile on his face.

"Thank you." Sam said.

For a moment the smile faded, and for a split second a hand of fear clenched Sam's spark. Then Soundwave smiled anew.

"Gratitude: Appreciated, unneeded."

Sam chuckled and shook his head, then pulled away from Soundwave to examine the room anew. Shuttering his optics once, he noticed a map at the bottom of his vision, under his vitals. The room was listed, 'Throne Room Defense Sector'. Why didn't he notice that before, and what the heck did 'Throne Room Defense Sector' mean?

"Leave." Soundwave said.

Sam spun around to face the Third in Command, optics wide. "What?" Sam said, straightening up. "Why! ? What did I do? Did I do something wrong?" Oh please tell him he didn't already alienate the only Decepticon on base that was actually talking to him! "I-I didn't mean to-"

Soundwave let out another harsh noise to shush him, faster than static but lower in pitch than a electronic beep. "Megatron: Sensed your hacking." A grim certainty covered his covered face. "Megatron: Not happy."

Ice flowed through Sam's coolant lines. "N-Not happy…" Sam repeated. His processor flashed back to Mission City, the memory of Megatron chasing him through that makeshift warzone returning with a vengeance that Sam hadn't felt since he finally accepted the fact that he'd killed a living being. "Are you going to be alright?" Sam asked. "He's not gonna attack you, right, or-?"

Soundwave's vocalizer released another noise, a spike in the static. Did he just bark a laugh? As that question dinged through Sam's mind, Soundwave turned to him with wry amusement, confirming Sam's question. "Soundwave: Not Starscream. Megatron: Unlikely to attack most loyal officer."

Sam stared at Soundwave. Yeah, Megatron wouldn't have attacked Soundwave before his revival. That much Sam knew for a fact from what Optimus had told him. But that was before Megatron had been revived. That was before Megatron had kidnapped Sam and turned him into a Decepticon. It was clear to the former human that Megatron… felt something for him. Sam had absolutely no desire to find out what exactly that something was, but clearly it was there. It wasn't the possessiveness and superiority of a master to his slave or the love and compassion of a creator to their creation, but something… No, Sam wasn't going to dwell on that. Not with the possibility that whatever Megatron felt for him would goad him into attacking the most loyal of his men.

Then again, Soundwave had known Megatron longer than Sam had. Much, much, much longer, almost as long as Optimus had known him. Who was Sam to question Soundwave's knowledge of his leader? If Soundwave was sure Megatron wouldn't attack him, Sam might as well trust him. He'd trusted him enough to let him hack him. Oh man, Megatron was probably going to give him so much shit for letting a strange mech who he didn't even know the rank of hack him. Should Sam ever get out of here and get back to Optimus, the Prime would probably throw an even bigger fit than the Tyrant would…

Yeah, Sam wasn't going to tell Optimus about what just happened.

Soundwave's engine rumbled and Sam nodded his head.

"Okay, okay, I'm leaving, I'm leaving," he said, "Just, uh, tell me how to find Vindico." Sam let out a nervous laugh. "I mean, that's what I originally asked for and all. I wasn't expecting you to activate my systems or even you telling me that some of my systems were offline or-"

"Scanners: All encountered mechs marked." Huh, that explained why he was sensing Megatron coming closer oh wait. "Quarters: Vindico's marked." Soundwave's voice grew tighter as Megatron's signal grew closer. "Leave." Soundwave said again, and this time Sam didn't object, heading to the door closest to the junk pile.

Slipping through the door into what his map labeled as a maintenance sector, Sam kept up a good pace to keep out of the range of Megatron's scanners. The act of avoiding the infinitely more powerful mech seemed instinctive for reasons Sam couldn't understand, as if he knew exactly where Megatron's scanners stopped in the radius it made around his frame. At the same time, he could also detect the fields of those in the rooms around him, their frequencies scrambled by the walls that separated him from them. Was he some kind of scout? Why did Megatron need a scout? Or did Bumblebee have more of an influence on him than Megatron was willing to admit…?

A few turns later and Sam could no longer sense Megatron's scanner field. Maybe he should slow down, stop rushing, get his bearings, figure out where the hell he was. But then again, Megatron would probably chase after him after he got done with Soundwave. He had to get as far away from this place and find some place to hide, or find someone to tell him what kind of a mood Megatron was in before reuniting with him… Sam snorted at that thought. Yeah, right. As if there weren't any Decepticons on base that wouldn't sell him out to Megatron. Just keep moving Sam.

An unknown scanner field breeched before him. Sam tensed and paused. Who the slag was using these old tunnels? For that matter, how many Decepticons were on base that he hadn't met yet? Soundwave had said that all the mechs he'd met were already marked, so… The mech turned the corner and Sam watched him. This new Con was an odd one, painted not in the traditional grays or browns of military vehicles but rather a dark blue shade that wouldn't be out of place on your average highway. The mech's yellow optics briefly glanced at him, but then turned back in front of him and was gone around… the…

Did that Decepticon have _yellow_ optics? What kind of self-respecting Decepticon had _yellow_ optics?

Sam shrugged. Y'know what, he'd just ask Vindico. The bastard claimed to know everything else that was going on with the Decepticons, why shouldn't he be able to explain that too?

Though, the odds of getting a straight answer from him were…

Surprisingly enough, it wasn't hard to pull up a larger version of the map in the corner of his optics. It took a few tries to make his processor understand that he didn't want to pinpoint Megatron's location but his own, but once he realized he was still tracking Megatron's signal and switched his scanners back to neutral, the map focused on his location without a problem. That was something Sam was thankful for as he found himself referring to it three times in his quest to pin down where Vindico's quarters were. They weren't with the rest of the soldiers, and they weren't in the officers' bay, but instead were in a section of the ship that didn't seem to be in use anymore. There were questions that could be asked about that, but Sam would wait to do it in person.

Now walking through the abandoned section of the ship, Sam kept an optic on his surroundings. If there were horror movies on Cybertron, one could almost certainly have been filmed here. The build of this part of the ship seemed older than the rest of it, fallen pillars stacked up neatly, hiding walls covered with wirework art, rust crumbling the formal and feminine designs. The build of the hallways were rounded like the rest of the ship, but the art that had once covered those arches hadn't been taken down here. If there was an equivalent to R'lyeh in the Cybertronian pantheon, this place could have been modeled after it.

Actually, that might be a more apt comparison than he realized, now that Sam thought about it. Vindico even looked a little like Cthulhu with his face-fins or tentacles or whatever the heck was covering the lower half of his face. It was only suiting that a teenbot as pseudo-scary as Vindico would want to hang around a decaying place like this.

Actually, maybe those face-fins were supposed to be a beard or something like that. A smirk spread over Sam's face. 16 terran cycles old Vindico, trying to grow a beard to look more mature. Sam couldn't stop the snicker. Yeah, right, like Cybertronians knew what beards were before they stumbled upon humanity. The thought was awesome though. Sam had to find out how to copy and save it somewhere so he could relive the humor whenever he needed a laugh.

Vindico's signal peaked over the edge of his scanners at the same time a red dot blinked into existence from the corner of Sam's map. Letting out a sigh of relief, Sam hurried towards the marked room and Vindico's signal. The signal proved to be inside the room marked on Sam's map. So the guy was in his quarters. Sam listened for a moment. He couldn't hear anything, so he hadn't stumbled upon the guy having a little, uh, happy time or something. Could Cybertronians even masturbate? Did he want to know if they could?

From the other side of the door came a barely audible sigh and Sam stood at attention. The panel beside the door let out a small hum, then a beep as the light turned red. The door opened, revealing the teenbot, his frame glinting lightly with cleaning fluids.

Sam grinned. "Hey!"

Vindico blinked at him, his expression blank with surprise. Then he raised his hand and pressed a button on his side of the door. The door closed and with another beep, locked. Sam threw himself at the door.

"Hey, c'mon, _Vindico_!" Sam pounded on the door. "Let me in, you can't lock me out like this!"

"I can and I have!" Vindico shouted from the other side of the room. "I don't care how the slag you found me, but I order you to unfind me at once!"

"Unfind you my ass." Sam retorted, and turned his attention to the keypad. If he knew anything about the way the Decepticons worked, there was a safety measure involved with the lock to allow a Decepticon that locked themselves out to get back in without having to bother anyone else to get the password. From what Optimus said and what Sam had personally seen, the Decepticons aimed to be self-reliant in every way, if only to keep from irritating Megatron. Trouble was, what buttons did he have to press to reset the password? "You can't lead me around and explain things to me and then avoid me for two days."

"Says who! ?" Vindico shouted.

"Says me!" Sam's optics still trailed over the keypad, the foreign yet now-familiar symbols that covered the keypad. Where could it…? "And more than that, you can't order the Decepticons to not tell me where you're going-!"

"_Who__ told__ you__ that!__?_"

Sam snorted. "Just because I'm a human doesn't mean I'm stupid!" Tilting his head a little, Sam saw a short oblong button on the side of the keypad. Sam's optics glowed in realization.

"You're stupid enough to still call yourself a human!"

Sam hit the button. "You think I should abandon who I am?" The blue screen faded to a neutral shade, and words formed over its screen. Sam read the repeating message a few times, and grit his dentas. Identification codes… Shit, he didn't have those. He'd have to bluff this. He began to scan the options. Full designation, ranking, accomplishments, status, aliases… Sam glanced at the door. Maybe…

"Who you _were_!" Vindico shouted. "You're not a human anymore, just an idiot!"

"Strong words for the one who thinks he knows better than the guy in charge!" Sam said. From behind the door Vindico growled, and Sam smirked. Actually… "Maybe you can tell me why Megatron hasn't smacked some sense into you? He's done it to others before-"

Vindico let out a howl. "You _idiot_!" Sam flinched at the intensity in the teenbot's voice. "Your pitiful former organic processor cannot even _begin_ to comprehend what my relationship with Megatron is like! How dare you insinuate he'd abuse me like he does that scrapheap of a Seeker! ?" Vindico's voice dropped to a growl. "Maybe I should tell you my real identity. Maybe _then_ you'd come to respect the one who lords over all Decepticons!" A thrill shot through Sam's veins. This is just what he wanted to hear! A chance to get the door open AND a chance to figure out Vindico's true name! This couldn't be going any better!

"Go on." Sam said.

There was a pause from the other side of the door. "You aren't reacting how I expected you to be reacting." Vindico said.

Sam paused and stared at the door. "Uhhh… How am I _supposed_ to be reacting?"

"Fear, ideally. I _was_ just shouting at you at the top of my vocalizer, so a little cowering would be nice. Respect to be sure, as I just called myself Lord of the Decepticons. Confusion most of all considering 'Lord of the Decepticons' is something you've probably heard Megatron be called? Things like that?"

"Um." Sam looked at the keypad again. Maybe he spoke too soon. Sam huffed through his vents. Time for more aggravation.

"Well, sorRY," Sam said, "I'm too busy wondering what that crack about your relationship with Megatron meant."

"Excuse me?"

"Oh yeah, I mean, there are so many possibilities for what you could mean by that." Sam nodded his head, trying hard to keep the smirk on his face out of his voice. "I mean, think about it. There are so many ways to interpret that. You could be anyone, from his son or his nephew or his girlfriend or his-"

"YOU INSOLENT LITTLE SCRAPHEAP!" Sam jerked away from the door as it rattled, as if Vindico had thrown himself at it. "How dare you even insinuate I have such a relationship with Megatron! How dare you even _dream_ of calling such a possibility by a fleshie term!" Vindico hissed through his vents, then stomped away from the door like a child. "I am no mate of Megatron! No, I lord over even him as ruler of the Decepticons! I am not just another subordinate walking around this ship! I am the first Decepticon! The original, the eldest of them all, the one that came before all the others even in absence! **I.****AM.****THE****FALLEN**!"

Sam's fingers flew over the keypad, filling in the information he was given as his processor identified it. The screen on the keypad flashed green, and then blinked back to neutral as it awaited the new passcode. Sam typed in the first thing that came to his head, typed it again before he realized what he was doing, and grinned as the door opened, revealing Vindico's half-stooped in ranting form.

"Pretentious little bastard aren't you?" Sam said as he stepped into the room.

Vindico yelped and turned around, half-stumbling in the process. His optics were wide. "H-How did you get in here?"

"The door," Sam said, a satisfied smile on his face.

The shock on Vindico's face faded into a pout. "You were antagonizing me."

Sam nodded. "Something like that, yeah."

The flaming mech stood up, crossing his arms over his chassis. "You antagonized me into giving my true designation and vital information so you could fill out the identification codes and re-code my door."

"Pretty much, yeah," Sam confirmed. Oh man that look on Vindico's face was just so… satisfying. It was so hard to keep the smirk off his face that Sam wasn't sure he should even bother trying. As Vindico's pout deepened, the smirk grew wider on Sam's face. No, no use trying. And what's the harm of letting Vindico know how he felt?

Vindico's pout turned into a scowl. "I don't believe this… I can't believe you did that." Vindico shook his head and turned around, walking to the built-in desk behind him. He leaned on it and shook his head again. "I can't believe you did that," He repeated, this time softer. "That's… That's…" Vindico straightened up, his flames lighting to blue in the centers in some curious emotion. Vindico looked over his shoulder at Sam, a smirk on his face. "That's just what a Decepticon would do."

Sam's spark dropped to his feet. "What?"

"That's just what a Decepticon would do. What they _should_ do." Vindico said, turning around to face the former human, provocatively leaning against the desk. "Antagonizing a fellow Decepticon into giving up crucial information… Hacking the keypad for their quarters to get inside…" Vindico moved away from the desk, swaying his hips slightly as he walked towards Sam, hands behind his back. Sam watched him with wide optics, pink with understanding at the younger mech's words. "Caring nothing about the well-being and happiness of the one they're victimizing… Only caring about what _they_ want, what _they_ need to get by in the cruel Decepticon life…" Vindico stopped in front of Sam and ran his index finger down the grooves in Sam's face, from the side of his optics and over his numb lips. Vindico's red optics never moved from Sam's. "You really are one of us."

"Shut up," Sam breathed, but Vindico merely chuckled.

"I know, the truth hurts, and I'm sorry for the pain." Vindico's fingers trailed down Sam's neck, towards the Decepticon insignia on his clavicle. With two fingers he stroked the symbol, and Sam jolted at the lightning that the action sent through his frame. "But the truth is, with pain comes understanding, and with understanding comes acceptance." Vindico's optics narrowed. "You were always supposed to be one of us."

"You're wrong."

"I'm not." Vindico's fingers moved away from Sam's insignia, and the Decepticon rested his hand on his chassis, his optics glowing at the rapid pulsing under the smooth metal. "I see it now, what Megatron did. The untapped desire to dominate… The urge to harm, the desire to torture and destroy the weak and vulnerable. You were bullied for so long, I can see it in your optics…" Sam jerked at the verbal gunshot to his spark. "It's only natural that you want to make others understand the humiliation you grew up with, make them suffer as you did."

"I'm not like them!" He wasn't like them, he was never like them. He wasn't ever going to become another Trent, a bully and an asshole and a-

"But you want to be," Vindico said.

"No I don't!"

"Yes you do. You always have. You just never let yourself feel it before now." Vindico smiled. "But I'm sure your friends noticed."

A different kind of ice settled on Sam's spark casing. "Leave them out of this."

"You mean you never knew they knew?" Vindico said. "Cruelty like ours is not something they can ignore. They must have noticed something odd about you, arguing, slandering, secretly hating someone or something or them. Yes, them. Didn't you hate them for getting involved in your life?" No, he hadn't. He never had. "Didn't you ever wish to see them just disappear and never return?" Never, his life was complete once he met them! "They had to have known of your desire to harm. They must have feared your willingness to kill Megatron." Fire coursed through Sam's wires. He did not just say that. "And now, once you've become one of us, there is nothing holding them back from showing you what they really felt for yo-"

Sam slapped him. Vindico let out a cry and stumbled back, holding his cheek. The slender mech turned back to stare at him with wide optics, but Sam could care less about his fear.

"You take that back you little shit!" Sam lunged, tackling Vindico to the ground.

The Fallen let out a scream as he fell, balling his hand into a fist and aiming for Sam's side. Skyhunter hit first, punching the teenbot so hard he let out another cry. The Fallen's flames flared for a split second and Skyhunter smirked in glee as the power the Fallen yearned for never came. Skyhunter slapped the Fallen again, growling happily at the cry that came from the teenbot. It'd been so long since he'd attacked with his claws instead of with his cunning it was almost, how would his host put it, _orgasmic_. The Fallen's optics flared at the same time his flames did, and the ancient mech turned back to Skyhunter with grit dentas. The Fallen's hand moved so fast Skyhunter didn't register the movement until the ancient mech's hand had torn off a chunk of his shoulder. Skyhunter let out a scream of pain and slapped the Fallen again. The Fallen was going to regret that action before Skyhunter was done with him.

The Fallen kicked Skyhunter in the side and rolled. Trying to get on top would do him no good. Skyhunter rolled with him and kicked the Fallen away, causing him to skid on the metal-tiled floor. The Fallen began to pull himself to his feet, but Skyhunter was already there, on top of him, and this time, he didn't bother to aim, merely attacked what he could get his claws on, slapping away the Fallen's attempts to protect himself. That blissful fire was surging through his frame as it always did as he inflicted suffering onto others, growing in intensity like an approaching overload with every dent he made and every drop of fluid he drew. The Fallen's quickly fading pleas for mercy just made it better.

Finally the Fallen let out a pitiful moan and fell limp, trembling, braced for the final blow. With satisfaction Skyhunter viewed his handiwork. His fallen Prime was leaking energon from most of his wounds, most notably to Skyhunter the chunks he'd torn from his face-fins. The Fallen was dented from his chassis to his thighs with scuffs and scratches like lover's bites. They probably went lower down than Skyhunter could see, where the Fallen had been kicked and pinned down by this frame's larger legs. Skyhunter then turned his attention to the Fallen's face, admiring the lips parted with pain, the optics tightly clenched with dreaded expectation. There were those that would have contested the claim that Megatronus Prime was a lovely mech, but to Skyhunter, pain made every mech beautiful. And yet… Skyhunter frowned.

"You've fallen harder than I expected, Megatronus."

The Fallen's optics snapped open, staring at Skyhunter in sudden realization. "Y-You?"

Skyhunter trailed his bloody fingers over the Fallen's face. "I expected many things from you, but rusty combat skills were not one of them."

Trembling at the touch, the Fallen said, "What do you expect of me? I was sealed in that sarcophagus for-" Skyhunter gripped another part of the Fallen's fins and pulled. The part pulled free with a metallic squeal that matched the Fallen's scream of pain. The Fallen began to tremble harder, cringing as Skyhunter crushed what he had just amputated and threw it aside. "Master…" The ancient mech whispered.

Leaning down close enough to lick the energon leaking from the Fallen's face, Skyhunter said, "You know as well as I do that I do not tolerate this kind of weakness in my army."

Defiance flickered over his subordinate's face. "I'm not a part of your army any-"

Skyhunter pulled another section of the Fallen's fins off, the energon splashing onto his host's face. The Fallen let out another scream and began to sob, his whole body shaking with his physical and emotional distress. Skyhunter let out a satisfied purr. Music to his audios… His optics narrowed. …But unsuitable for his traitor-Prime.

"You've regressed in more than just your age, Megatronus…" Skyhunter's optics narrowed. "I'm not very happy to see what's become of you."

"No..." The Fallen whimpered.

"I think… I should make an example of you to my treacherous descendent…" Skyhunter placed his hand on the Fallen's chassis and squeezed the arched metal. His optics narrowed. "Show him what happens when you play with Unicron's toys."

The Fallen stared at him in a different way now, naivety and awareness mixing. Unicron dug his claws into the chassis of his victim. Should the Fallen disobey his unspoken command, Unicron would have no issues with forcibly returning the ancient mech to his side. Yes, wasn't that a nice thought. Unicron stared into the Fallen's optics, admiring the mutual knowledge they shared of the fallen Prime's fate. He wasn't expecting what the Fallen shouted next.

"_Sam_!"

Sam jerked, optics flashing at the cry. He cried out and flailed, pulling off the smaller mech. Scrambling backwards, Sam watched as Vindico sat up and cradled his chassis, his ragged breathing matching Sam's. Sam's optics darted from Vindico's damaged face to the dents all over his frame to the blood, oh god the blood. Wait a minute, if Vindico was damaged and he was on top of him then… Sam looked down at himself. Bile rose into his throat. He was covered in Vindico's blood!

Oh god oh god oh god oh god oh god, what did he do! ?

Turning his gaze back to Vindico, his optics landed on the smaller mech just in time to see Vindico throw himself at him. Sam yelped and threw up his arms to defend himself, his body already bracing himself for the Decepticon's attack. Oh Primus he had no idea what he'd done and he was already going to pay for it, this was gonna hurt-

Vindico's arms wrapped around Sam's frame. Sam went still. Vindico's trembling was unhidden as he clung to the former human, his ragged breathing loud in Sam's audios, his grip exposing his pain as well as the blood on their frames did. After a long moment, Vindico shuddered and sagged in Sam's arms, letting out a soft sob of pain. Sam stared at the wall over Vindico's shoulders. What should he do? What did he do? Hesitating for only a moment, Sam wrapped his arms around the trembling teenbot, avoiding Vindico's injuries as best he could. Vindico froze, and Sam's spark skipped a pulse, but then Vindico was sinking into him again.

"Promise me something Sam," Vindico whispered.

Sam exhaled softly through his vents. "Promise you what?"

"Don't ever get angry again." Wait, what? "I don't ever want to see what he did to you again." Sam looked down at Vindico, his mouth open in confusion. What someone did to Sam? What did Sam to do him! ? Wait a minute, there was another person involved in this…?

Trying and failing to moisten his mouth, Sam whispered, "Who's 'he'?"

Vindico pulled his head up to look at the former human, his optics faded with pain. "Unicron."

* * *

*TBC*

* * *

And thus, we have our first encounter with what I hope I hope I hope is our villain! No, I don't know where he came from, and I don't know why he showed up. Originally Sam was going to be possessed by *SPOILER*, but the more I tweaked that scene the more Unicron poked me in the back of the head and said, "I'm right here, lady, and I've got some things to say to that *censored censored censored*." - Oh god I think Aden is rubbing off on me. But I digress. The Fallen.

The Fallen being on fire is not my idea. No, this idea dates back aaaaaall the way to the 80s and the Marvel comics which no one knows about because they're comics. In his original incarnation, the Fallen was originally known as Megatronus Prime, and he was one of Primus' Thirteen, the thirteen original Cybertronians. Megatronus was the Guardian of Entropy, but he became so fascinated with destruction that he forgot about the creation that comes after it. Wanting what Primus could not and would not give him, Megatronus turned to Unicron, who appointed him Avatar of Chaos. That's not actually flames on his body, you see, that's his chaos energy manifesting as flames because there's simply so much of it. They actually transfer over slightly into RotF, forming as the pools of energy you see covering his body. In Dark Desire, that's where the flames are originating from. Unlike in the Marvel comics and the movie, however, in Dark Desire, the flames are his powers which he can't control and therefore use because of his regression. If they didn't manifest like that, he'd probably go boom. When he finally does learn how to control his powers once again, they'll probably go away, but reappear when he's frustrated and such. I feel safe explaining this now because I have NO IDEA when I'll be able to explain in-universe.

With that said, I'd also like to state that I HAVE seen DotM, and certain characters will be appearing in this fic from that movie, specifically Sentinel. No idea what I'm going to do with Dylan yet. Suggestions are welcomed.

Anyway, this A/N has gone on long enough, and it's almost 3AM, so I'll end this here. Suggestions, ideas, comments, and standard reviews are loved. I don't know what I'd do without you guys.

See you next Monday/Friday! Or the Monday/Friday after that, knowing me…

Jason Grey


	6. Chapter 5

We now return to our regularly scheduled broadcasting schedule. Yes people, I'm back, for good this time. Hopefully after this I won't vanish anymore, and hopefully I won't have a reason to vanish like another natural disaster or something.

Something I noticed with last chapter is that I don't respond to every review I get, even though plenty of them give me material to do so. From this point on, I'm going to try and do better at that, and respond to every review I get, no matter if I have much to work with it or not. Besides, doesn't everyone like to know that their reviews are appreciated?

I hope you people sincerely do like longer chapters, because this chapter is exactly 11,415 words long. It was actually going to be longer if my initial plotting is any indication, however I cut it short. I also cut the scene with the Fallen short. I'll remedy that the next time he comes on screen. Also, I haven't actually had a beta run this over. I was going to send it to MissMary, but then I remembered she was doing NaNo this year and I didn't want to bother her. So, if you see any typos or errors, that's why.

Stick around for the closing A/Ns for a notice from me, please, there's something else I'd like to mention.

* * *

**Title**: Dark Desire  
**Series**: Transformers  
**Rating**: M  
**Genre**: Romance/Drama  
**Characters**: Sam W. and Megatron  
**Summary**: AU Two halves cannot become a whole until they are joined together. Megatron has plans for the future, and it's not like Sam has a choice in the matter.  
**Disclaimer**: I do not own Transformers, or anything else mentioned in this chapter that I have forgotten about disclaiming.  
**Warnings**: We're getting into a minor crossover here with another Transformers series, and I'm positive I got them OOC, but that's proving to be kind of the point of the fic, so… Also, Sam swears some more, Megatron is finally acting IC for once (yay!), a little purging of the tanks, some innuendo from the crossover characters, and a single mention of crossover characters from a series other than TF. Blink and you'll miss it. Literally.  
**Dedications**: To Aden, 13IsTaLkThEaKaTsUkI13, who got sick during the writing of this chapter and hasn't read it in its entirety yet. Get well soon Cronie~!

* * *

He didn't want to think anymore.

Sam slid down the wall of the hall and cradled his head in his hands. He was in a deserted section of the ship, with only the echoes of the ship's engines, pulsing like a spark, for company. Just as he wanted it. This was better, anything was better than the pain in Vindico's optics as Sam dragged him to the medbay, the frightened squawk of the medic as he got a glimpse of the one Sam was supporting, the two powerful mechs with the construction vehicle alt-modes escorting him out of the medbay, their optics laced with that familiar fear Sam knew he'd never get used to.

Like the Decepticons needed a new reason to be terrified of him…

No, Sam, don't think about that. Sam pulled his legs up to his chassis and rested his arms and forehead on them. Don't think about how you almost killed Vindico, the only mech on base even close to your age. Don't think about how you don't remember it, about his energon staining your frame, about who the hell 'Unicron' is. Don't think about how Megatron will react when-

"Skyhunter!"

Speak of the Devil. Sam raised his head. As the behemoth of a mech turned the corner, Sam pulled himself to his feet, swaying somewhat before grabbing the wall to support himself. Exhaling through his vents in a sigh, Sam turned to face Megatron just in time for the Tyrant to pull him into a tight hug.

The rest of the air Sam had been using rushed out of his vents, and he gagged on his own attempts to breathe. Thanks Megatron, he needed that air. The Tyrant rested his hand on the back of Sam's head and pressed his faceplates close to his chassis, close enough for Sam to faintly smell the thunderstorm scent of Megatron's spark. With a grunt Sam pulled his face away from Megatron's chassis so his face wasn't plastered to it and focused on his breathing until it stabilized. Taking one last breath, he felt Megatron reach for his shoulders. The Tyrant separated Sam from his massive frame enough so they could look each other in the optics. Sam looked up to Megatron's face. Megatron's optics blazed the same shade they had been at Mission City. Sam's spark dropped to his feet. Oh shit.

"What were you thinking?" Megatron asked. Before Sam could answer, Megatron said, "No, I already know what you were thinking." He vented air hot enough to make Sam yelp. "And even if I don't know now, I will soon." Megatron shoved Sam away, causing the smaller mech to stumble back until his back hit the wall. "I cannot believe this. Getting possessed by _Unicron_ of all entities! I would have expected that to happen at least a vorn into your existence, not _now_!" Megatron growled, and Sam cringed back against the wall.

This could not be happening. Could it? It'd been three days since Megatron had changed him, and not once in each of those days had Megatron ever acted like he had at Mission City, as he had in life before they met. But Sam knew those optics. They'd haunted him in his nightmares even after Megatron had changed him. He was back. The cruel Megatron _was__back_.

And Sam was his target.

Megatron reached into his subspace pocket and Sam automatically flinched away. What was he going to bring out of there, a whip or, no, just a sealed cube of energon. Taking a step towards Sam, Megatron grabbed his hand away from where it protected his chassis and shoved the cube into his grasp.

"Drink it." Megatron said. "Drink all of it, and don't stop until you're done." His claws grasped Sam's elbow. "And come with me."

Letting out a small oomph and stumbling over his feet as Megatron tugged him away from the wall, Sam resettled himself and walked alongside Megatron. When Megatron seemed sure he wouldn't try to run away or whatever he thought he was preventing by grabbing his elbow, he released it and watched carefully as Sam reached for the lid of the sealed energon. Popping the lid off of the cube, Sam tucked it into his subspace pocket and sniffed the energon. It had a certain sweetness to it, like the sugar-milk Miles drank as a child, but with the kind of potency that reminded him of the moldy cheese his uncles once tormented him with as a child. _Ugh_. Beside him, Megatron snorted.

"It's _energon_, not a cube of triple purified high grade," Megatron said. "Just drink it."

Sam flinched. As disgusting as this energon might taste, it was better than Megatron snarling as him, or worse, punching or clawing him. Steeling his nerves, Sam raised the cube to his lips and took a sip.

He was in the center of a temple, his form immobilized, defenseless, and surrounded by his beloved creations. Sam watched and sensed and _breathed_ the scent of this ancient temple, watching the mechs and femme wander around his frame. Some kneeled before him, whispering silent prayers, helms bowed to their chassis, hands covering their mouths and olfactory sensors, arms over their chassis. When they rose, they parted their arms and exhaled, backing out of the ring that surrounded his form and out of his contacting range. Sam's gaze turned away from his followers, focusing on a mech that focused on him. Sam's spark warmed at the sight of his Chosen, his Child, his…

Vindico?

Sam jolted as the vision snapped away, the Nemesis' flickering lights blinding him before he could adjust to the change in light. Letting out a cry, he threw up his arms to cover his optics and staggered back, slamming against something huge, warm, and hard. What the hell! As his optics stopped burning and it became easier for him to think, he shuttered his optics a few times. What was that? He pulled his arms down from his optics, keeping his vision dim despite probably not needing to. What _was_ that? That… That vision he just saw? Wait a minute. Sam looked at his empty hands. Where'd the cube go? Why wasn't he covered with the energon he was drinking? And… What was he…? Sam looked up at the thing he was pressing against just in time for Megatron to wrap his arms around his frame.

Oh shit! Shit shit shit shit shit! Sam's processor switched gears in a nanoclick, from dazed to terrified and writhing in Megatron's arms. He didn't dare look at Megatron oh god Megatron was probably going to kill him for this or maybe rip him limb from limb or-

"Skyhunter."

Freezing in place, Sam held his breath.

"Look at me Skyhunter."

Hesitating for only a moment, Sam turned his gaze up towards Megatron's face. The anger that had once covered his face had faded now, replaced by a neutral, somewhat sorrowful expression. Sam shuttered his optics. Megatron…?

"I apologize, Skyhunter," Megatron said, his tones matching his words. "I should have warned you about possible side-effects to this energon."

Sam's lips went numb. "S-Side effects…?"

Megatron stared at him. "The vision you saw?"

"Oh." Sam said. So… That was a side effect of the energon? Wait a minute, how was that possible?

"There will be time to discuss it later," Megatron said, the apologetic tone mixing with and then being overcome with the same anger he'd been using before. No, that wasn't anger he was using, that was – Megatron stepped away from Sam, causing the smaller mech to jerk. "For now, however, there is someone we need to see."

Sam's optics widened, fading to pink around the edges. He meant… "Uh, Megatron, I really don't think Vindico wants to see me right no-"

Megatron's gaze turned back to him from where it had been glancing around the hall. "That is not a request, Skyhunter." He said. Sam's spark sunk. He knew that term. And that tone, too, for that matter. Optimus used it sometimes in the short time he'd been on base before Megatron kidnapped him, with the human soldiers. Sam never imagined NEST could get so… rowdy before he moved in. But then again…

"Understood, Sir," Sam said, and lowered his optics in respect.

The Tyrant flinched. Sam might not have been looking at his face, but he did see Megatron flinch. Automatically cringing himself, Sam glanced back up at Megatron's face. For an instant he glimpsed something like pain on Megatron's face, but it had faded back to neutral by the time Sam registered the emotion. Megatron handed back the cube to Sam without saying a word, and Sam fell into place beside him, sipping the energon as they walked.

It really was a weird kind of energon, now that he had time to focus on the taste. Actually, no, weird was being too nice. This stuff was _nasty_. It didn't taste as strong as it smelled, but Sam had to block his olfactory sensors every time he took a sip, otherwise he probably wouldn't have been able to tolerate it. It was smoky in flavor, like beef jerky, only it didn't taste like beef jerky, and instead was almost… Sweet. It also tingled on his glossa, and that was the biggest reason Sam found himself wrinkling his face with distaste with every sip. It coated his whole glossa and the roof of his mouth with annoying tingling. It was like eating spicy foods, only instead of burning it was tingling. Sam never liked eating spicy foods. He just wasn't that kind of guy, apparently.

Halfway through the cube, Sam turned to Megatron. "What is this stuff anyway?"

Megatron answered without flinching or breaking stride. "The Cybertronian equivalent of salt water."

Sam almost spat his mouthful out. Salt water! Somehow managing to keep the liquid in his mouth and going down the right channel, he stopped and turned to Megatron with wide optics.

"You mean like from the ocean!" He said.

Crimson optics turned to glare at him as Megatron turned his whole frame towards the former human. "I mean like in religious usage," Megatron said with barely hidden irritation. "This energon was used by the priests of the AllSpark in purification rituals, when such things were still done. If I could, you'd be bathing in it, but it's far from plentiful enough or easily created enough for such extravagance."

Shuttering his optics, Sam stared at Megatron. "Religious usage?" Sam said, frowning. "Why do you care about religious-"

Megatron's optics flared bright red, and Sam automatically backed up as the larger mech snarled. "When you're the AllSpark you have to know these things or your creation will get possessed by Unicron!" The Tyrant growled and glared over the top of Sam's helm. "Which already happened, sooner than I ever could have dreamed. I thought it would take vorns for him to locate you, long enough for you to be capable of standing against him, but no! He takes advantage of you less than three solar cycles after your creation!" Megatron relaxed, his frame sagging, now seeming smaller than his true height as sad frustration crossed his face. "I had so much I wanted to do with you, but now, I don't know if there will be enough time…"

Shuttering his optics again, Sam turned away. That was another expression that didn't look right on Megatron's face. Sorrow just didn't suit him. Then again, sorrow didn't suit most people. When Sam glanced back, Megatron had turned back to the hallway, and his face was neutral once more. Sam fell into step beside him.

It took a few more sips for Sam to get up the courage to ask his next question. "Who's Unicron?"

The Tyrant flinched, and turned to Sam with startled optics. Well shit, that wasn't a good sign. "You mean you don't know?" Megatron asked.

"Well…" Sam said, and shifted. "No, not really." Awkwardly Sam looked back at his cube of energon. "Well, that's not… Quite true, I guess. The Autobots used his name like some kind of oath, like humans use shit or damn or-"

"The only way most Cybertronians fell comfortable mentioning him is when they are demeaning him," Megatron interrupted. "His archetype is well-known amongst your people. Beings like him are present in most cultures, both on Earth and far in space." Sam blinked at him. Megatron's optics turned sharp and vicious. "Unicron. In our language, the Destroyer. In your language, Satan."

Sam stopped, jerking as if he walked into a wall. His optics stared blindly ahead, no thoughts registering in his processor. His grip on the cube loosened.

No. No, that couldn't be possible. There was no such thing as- No such true evil as- That stuff was myth, something for his grandparents to believe in. Sam had never had much exposure to any kind of religion growing up. Ron and Judy had done their best to keep him away from such things until they were sure he could make the right choice. But they got more and more overprotective as he was growing up, and that day never came… Oh god, would he ever see them again?

"I… I was possessed by the Devil?" Sam whispered.

Distantly Sam heard Megatron's footsteps stop, then turn towards him. "Not your Earthen Devil, Skyhunter. _Unicron_. While your Devil is restricted to incorporeal, undetectable manipulations of humankind, Unicron is a physical, powerful, ancient Cybertronian the size of a large moon. Humanity cannot agree to whether or not Satan and his lot exist?" Well, no they couldn't but – "Well," Megatron continued, "Unicron is different. His presence is recorded by hundreds of races, with thousands of sightings and an infinite number of species extinguished by his hand." Megatron leaned closer to Sam, so close Sam had to lean back to keep a safe distance from the Tyrant's sharp dentas. "Your kind's greatest spiritual evil tried to overthrow your god. _Unicron __eats __planets_, and _dissolves __the __inhabitants__ in __pools__ of__ acid__ for __fuel_!"

An odd calm came over Sam as he listened to Megatron's words. The news of what Unicron was, the revelation of the being that had possessed him, it slipped right through his spark, and through his body as if it were a normal statement, as if he'd known it all along. It wasn't the words themselves that brought on Sam's revelation. It was the tones he'd used, anger present, but not at him. Sorrow under it, and hidden deep beneath both of those emotions… Was that… Fear? As Megatron pulled away, Sam understood.

"You're angry," Sam said.

Regret creased Megatron's features. "More than you will ever be able to comprehend." Megatron straightened up, his optics locking with Sam's for a split second. Then, he turned away. "Finish your cube."

Falling into step once more beside Megatron, Sam turned off his olfactory sensors and drank more of the Cube. He was almost done with it. Thank Primus for small miracles – His glossa was practically numb from drinking this stuff. Ugh. Maybe Megatron would be nice enough to give him something to rinse his mouth out with or… But then again, he had to know…

"Why would Unicron care about Vindico? What's so special about him that would require Unicron possess me to attack him? How the hell did Unicron even _find_ me?"

"'Vindico' is older than he looks, Skyhunter, in both his frame and his spark. He has seen Unicron with his own optics in several of his lifetimes, and Unicron has a long memory." Whoa, wait, what? "And as for how he located you, of that, we cannot discuss yet." Megatron scowled, his next words filled with hate. "But you can be sure it will never happen again. Not as long as my spark pulses in my chassis."

Megatron's last statement fell on deaf audios. Sam was too busy focusing on what he said before them. He stared at Megatron with wide optics.

"What do you mean you can't tell me how he-" Pain swept through his body. His vision swayed and he leaned forward. Oh god… Did Megatron just punch him? But no, the pain was internal, fire lighting all through his frame as nausea overcame him. Sam stumbled, and distantly he felt Megatron's arms wrapping around him. "Uhhhg."

"The energon is taking effect," Megatron said, his frame warm, too warm, against Sam's. Sam felt himself being dragged over to the wall, to a waste disposal vent. He heard it open. "Purge, now."

Sam didn't argue, partially because he was already throwing up. The nausea was too intense for him to notice if the energon he drank was as disgusting coming up as it was going down, or even think about what he was doing. Megatron held him upright as he purged, then straightened him up as Sam emptied the last of the energon from his tanks. Shuttering his optics, Sam turned his eyes to Megatron. The mech reached into his subspace pocket, his expression calm, and pulled out another cube.

"Rinse your mouth out with this," He instructed. Sam shuttered his optics at him. Megatron seemed awfully calm now… Then he nodded and took the cube.

This energon tasted a lot better than the salt water energon. Clean, like water, it rinsed away the tingling as if it had never been there. It took the whole cube to get rid of the taste, however, but finally Sam straightened back up with a sigh, feeling better than he had been even before he had been possessed by Unicron. Maybe that was because Unicron had actually possessed him when he had that dream. That meant he'd been under Unicron's watch for… Sam shuddered and dumped the cube into the recycling chute next to the waste disposal vent. Megatron's hand followed his own, throwing in the cube with the salt water energon as Sam threw the cube with the liquid he'd rinsed his mouth out with.

Sam looked up. Megatron caught his optics and smiled at him.

"How do you feel?" Megatron asked.

Shuttering his optics at Megatron, Sam shifted on his peds and flexed his frame a little.

"Better than I did before," he said at last.

Megatron's crimson optics examined Sam's frame up and down. "The purification energon has probably purged most of Unicron's essence from your systems, however I cannot say for sure how deep he got inside you. I do have some other…" Megatron hesitated. "Rites we can perform to make sure he'll have a harder time getting inside you, but for now, this cleansing will do." Megatron turned around and began to walk back down the hall. Sam didn't follow, still staring at the wall. Sam heard Megatron pause and turn around, and tore his gaze back to look at the Tyrant.

"You mean…" Sam gulped. "There's a chance Unicron will try to… get back inside me?"

Megatron stared at him, faceplates twisted into a grim frown. "A chance?" Megatron chuckled. "Not a chance. Not even a possibility. It's a fact."

Sam's spark dropped to his feet. He took a shallow breath and shuttered his optics. Then he turned his gaze back to the wall.

Would it be possible for him to… Quit life early?

"Don't even think about it." Megatron's voice came from right beside him. Sam jumped. Holy slag that startled him. Wait a minute, what did he just say? Sam looked at Megatron. The Tyrant was glaring at him. Sam's spark dropped to his feet.

"If you really want to kill yourself over something as petty and easily dealt with as possession, you have every right to jump off the side of the ship, if you so desire. However," Megatron stepped closer to Sam. Sam backed up. His back hit the wall. Shit. Megatron placed one massive arm beside Sam's head and caught his optics. "No matter how many times you offline yourself, I'm just going to bring you back to life." The Tyrant said, and placed his other hand on Sam's chassis. Sam yelped. "And when I do bring you back to life I'm going to frag that pretty little chassis of yours so hard and so many times in the span of a single solar cycle that you're going to be offline for a whole organic month." Megatron's gaze was hard. "Do you really want to go through that sooner than either of us wants to?"

Sam shook his head as fast as he could make it move. Megatron smirked.

"That's what I thought," He said. Then in one quick motion the Tyrant gripped Sam's shoulder and pulled Sam's frame into his own. Sam yelped, then screamed as Megatron gripped the back of his helm, forced it upwards, and sealed their lips together. Shit, no! After a moment of struggle the younger mech fell limp, trembling in the Tyrant's arms as Megatron once again explored his mouth. The sensation made Sam arch up on the balls of his peds, and his glossa squirmed at the sensations. Sam offlined his optics. Okay, so… Maybe letting Megatron kiss him wasn't a bad idea after all…

Megatron jerked away, and Sam inhaled. The Tyrant's tight grip on his frame loosened, his arms parting, and Sam sagged back against the wall, optics wide. Sam didn't look at Megatron, too stunned from what had just happened to want to risk it. After a moment, his optics shuttered.

What did Megatron just do? Did he get… aroused when he talked about having his way with him? Sam snorted mentally at that thought. What was he saying, of course Megatron got turned on talking about it. God the guy got off on torturing others, what did he expect-

"Come with me," Megatron said. Sharp claws wrapped around his wrists. Sam's optics snapped back to Megatron just in time for the Tyrant to yank him away from the wall. Sam staggered, almost hitting Megatron's chassis again, but Megatron was already leading him down the hall towards the medbay. Sam gave his back a glare. Bastard. Then he turned his gaze back to the floor. His processor ran over the incident that just happened, working backwards from the kiss to the threat to the… The… Wait a minute… Sam's engine sputtered as the actual words Megatron had said to him hit him in the face. Sam jerked his wrist free of Megatron's claw.

"What the hell! ?" Sam shouted, "Do you read minds now or something! ? How the hell did you know I wanted to die! ?"

Megatron stopped again. "Oh it's not your _processor_ I'm reading," he said, and turned around. He was smirking. "Not that I wouldn't be able to get inside your head if I wanted to badly enough. I am the AllSpark, after all." Megatron winked suggestively at him. Sam scowled. Mental note, figure out what Megatron would consider disturbing and project them in his head when he thought Megatron was inside it.

The Tyrant sighed. "Don't be like that…" Megatron said. Sam glared at him, saying nothing. Finally Megatron sighed.

"Fine then. If you want to act like a sparkling, go right ahead. Just keep in mind, however, that as your creator, I have the right to… discipline you however I choose." Megatron said.

Sam shot him a look. "You would have a spanking fetish." Wait a minute, did Megatron even know what spanking was?

The Tyrant snorted. "You're the one whose processor jumped straight to spanking when I said the word 'discipline'."

For a moment, Sam gaped. Then he began to sputter. How could he even respond to that! ? As Megatron began to smile, Sam composed himself and scowled.

"Alrighty then, I'll remember that…" Sam said. "_Dad_," he added.

Megatron winced. Sam frowned. Funny, he'd thought Megatron would react harder to that line. Then his optics paled. But then again, Megatron would have probably slaughtered him for the intended insult if he'd been in his right mind. As it was, Megatron was merely walking down the hall again, and this time, Sam followed without being prompted.

After turning a few corners, Megatron said, "Did you notice anything… Odd before you had that incident with Unicron?"

Sam jolted and looked at Megatron. "'Odd' meaning…"

"Anything out of the ordinary," Megatron said. He wasn't looking at Sam. That seemed intentional somehow. Sam looked up again, noticing the medbay doors up ahead. They were slightly cracked open, a slight bit of Vindico's energon smeared against the doorframe. Sam shuddered.

"Anything that would have signaled to an aware mech what Unicron had or was about to do to you." Megatron added.

An 'aware' mech. Sam stopped in front of the slightly-opened doors and turned to face Megatron with a frown. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"I think you know exactly what it means," Megatron says calmly.

Sam vented hot air. "So you're saying it's my fault that I didn't know I was going to be possessed by Unicron."

Megatron shuttered his optics at him. "Well, actually, no, I meant-"

Gritting his dentas, Sam hissed, "How could I have known about that! ? What do you think I am, psychic or something! ? You're the AllSpark Megatron, not me!"

The Tyrant opened his mouth, then paused. His optics grew heavy and sad. He turned to face the doors. "It's not that you could've have known about it." He said. He looked back at Sam. "It's that I should've."

With that, Megatron strode inside, the automatic doors opening and staying open. Sam gaped after him, then sighed He readjusted himself. Might as well get this little reunion over with then. The former human followed the Tyrant into the medbay.

Sam stopped at Megatron's side, and glanced around the medbay. He hadn't gotten a good look at it when he brought Vindico here. On the far side of the room were rows of medical berths, and doors leading to what was probably more berths to house an injured army. On the wall opposite them there was a single door. On the other side of the room was a computer terminal with a holo screen that hummed quietly, and at that terminal was a red mech, the same medic that had freaked out when he saw Vindico. The mech turned at the sound of the door closing, and scowled.

"Get him out of here Lord Megatron!" The medic shouted. "He's not sterile!"

Not sterile? Sam looked down at his body and winced. He was still covered in Vindico's energon, the sticky fluid dried and flaking on his frame. He'd forgotten about that what with all the nasty energon, vomiting, arguing, and molestations of his mouth going on. Sam looked back up at Megatron as he spoke.

"No one is sterile enough to please you, Knock Out," the Tyrant said evenly, and walked closer to the medic, his peds making little sound on the floor. Sam followed him from a safe distance, ready to back off the moment the medic, Knock Out he should say, showed any sign of hostility.

Knock Out scowled at the Decepticon leader. "There's a difference, my Lord, between being relatively clean and walking into someone's medbay splattered with energon that isn't yours." The medic said, the main tone in his words being blunt with an undercurrent of accusation. "He's not even injured, either. He shouldn't be in here."

Megatron said nothing, and with his back to Sam, the former human wasn't sure what his expression was. Knock Out shifted and turned his gaze to Sam. Sam twitched. Oh god he was looking at him. For some reason that was really freaky. After a moment of looking at Sam, Knock Out turned his gaze back to Megatron and smiled nervously.

"Of course, it would make sense for him to be still dirty if he hasn't been taught how to use a Cybertronian shower, right, my Lord?" Knock Out said, his tones matching his expression. Sam shuttered his optics. What was that shower crack supposed to mean? Megatron nodded.

"Yes, Knock Out, that makes perfect sense," Megatron said. He shifted his massive frame to the side to face the computer terminal, leaving Sam even more exposed to the medic than before. "Examine him," Megatron said, gesturing to the former human. Sam's spark clenched.

Knock Out looked him up and down, then shuttered his optics. He frowned. In the relative silence, Sam took a moment to examine his new doctor.

When the subject of the Decepticons was brought up when he was human, the first mech Sam always pictured was Megatron, understandably. When asked to picture your average Decepticon, however, Sam tended to picture Barricade. Barricade was a smuggler before the war, and his tendency towards cruelty showed in everything he did, in a manner completely unlike Megatron. Megatron toyed with his victim's minds and took things as slow as he could in order to completely break them. Barricade didn't care about breaking anything but the victim's body, and would obliterate their body parts one by one just to hear them plead. Megatron genuinely enjoyed corrupting others and swaying them to his side, no matter how long it took, where Barricade would either torture you into submission or kill you instead of recruiting you. Everything Megatron did was directed towards the long term; Barricade was mainly focused on the short term. Megatron was the Decepticon commander for a very obvious reason. Mechs like Barricade were as easily found as their victims.

Knock Out was nothing like either of them.

Looking at the medic, it was like the war had never happened. He was spotless and perfect, as if he'd never seen a day of combat in his life, which couldn't be true since he was a Decepticon and all. There was not a dent or scratch anywhere on him. Even after not being in combat for a few days Megatron still had some fresh scratches littering his frame. His paintjob was a brilliant scarlet red with a few golden accents here and there, and just by his design Sam realized he had a civilian alt-mode, some kind of sports car that Bumblebee might've used if he felt like changing his alt-mode. What the hell? That made no sense! The Decepticons didn't care about looking pretty, they wanted alt-modes that could fly or had some kind of weapons installed or, better yet, both.

After looking the medic over, Sam frowned and looked at himself. He was dented from Megatron's rough handling, scratched from Thundercracker and Skywarp's attempt to rape him, and coated with Vindico's blood, along with the dents and scratches he acquired from _that_ incident.

Compared to this mech, he was a walking, talking trash can.

Knock Out turned to look back at Megatron. "What am I supposed to be looking for, exactly?" He asked.

Megatron sighed. "Consider it a stalling tactic while I go talk to… Your patient." Knock Out flinched slightly. "Besides," Megatron added, "You were the one to say that all new recruits had to pass a routine health exam before they could interact with the crew."

Sam whipped his head around to glare at Megatron. New recruits, huh? He ground his dentas together. How dare he. Oh, the things he would say to that mech if he were just brave enough…

The medic snorted. "A little late for that, wouldn't you say my Lord?"

"Then count yourself lucky you have the chance to examine the first of the New Decepticons now, in peace, instead of when you're scrambling to figure out how to fix him after a battle." With that, Megatron turned and strode towards the door on the other side of the medbay.

"Ah, my Lord!" Knock Out called after him. The Tyrant turned around and gave the medic one of the hardest glares Sam had ever seen on Megatron's face. Knock Out seemed to wither in place. "The patient is having a… Negative reaction to the painkillers I gave him." Megatron's right optic ridge rose. Knock Out coughed through his vents. "Be prepared to duck when you first step inside." He finished.

After a moment, Megatron nodded. "Very well then. Thank you for the warning." Knock Out twitched as if in surprise, but Megatron had already strode through the door. Before it closed all the way Sam heard Vindico shout what had to be a horrible word in a Cybertronian dialect, but then the door had shut with a click of a lock. Sam looked at Knock Out, then jumped back and yelped as something hit the door to Vindico's room from the inside, hard. God that spooked him. He couldn't take many more scares today… Sam turned once more to Knock Out.

The medic shook his head. "Good luck, my Lord," he said to no one. Then his scarlet optics turned to the former human. He gestured to a berth. "Sit over there." As he turned around to pull something out of a drawer, Sam obeyed, hopping onto the berth and trying to ignore the knot in his refueling tank.

The click of a drawer closing drew Sam's optics back to Knock Out. The medic was walking towards him, holding a device in his hand that looked like someone had hooked up a sci-fi magnifying glass up to a PDA with several long wires. Knock Out gave him an odd look as he stopped in front of him, but then shook off whatever thought he had. "Hold still," the medic said, and began to run the device around Sam's helm. Sam followed it warily with his optics.

"Your designation is Skyhunter, correct?" Knock Out asked, reading the screen on the PDA in his right hand.

For a split second, Sam hesitated. "That's what Megatron calls me, yeah." He said.

Knock Out glanced up from the PDA. "Is that what you call you?" He asked.

Sam shuttered his optics. "Uh… Well…" He frowned. There really was no good way to answer that. He could be honest and risk angering the medic, or he could lie and anger him anyway if Knock Out found out he'd been lying. What could he say?

Before he could answer, Knock Out shook his head. "Relax," the medic said. "What you refer to yourself in your processor is your business, not mine or anyone else's. So long as you still answer to Skyhunter among the Decepticons, you could call yourself Prime in your processor for all most of us care." The medic glanced up at him again. "But please don't, because that would eventually cause some mental dissonance and possibly some delusions of grandeur, and that'd a terrible for everyone, especially you."

Sam nodded slowly. Knock Out smiled, that patronizing smile Sam saw on so many adults' faces when he was younger. "I meant that relax thing literally, by the way," the medic said, moving the device over and around Sam's shoulders. "You're too tense for me to get an accurate reading on your spark, and I certainly do need that for your file, you know."

Exhaling softly through his vents, Sam offlined his optics and relaxed his frame as much as he could with a stranger examining him. He felt the magnifying glass draw closer to his chassis and held his breath. The glass paused before his spark chamber, and Knock Out let out a little 'hm?'

"That's strange," Knock Out said. Sam onlined an optic to a dim to see his face. The medic was frowning at his PDA. "I would have assumed he'd…" The medic glanced at him and jerked as their optics met. Knock Out scowled.

"No need to look so apprehensive, Skyhunter," Knock Out said, his sardonic tone completely masking any others in his voice. "My medical scanners are completely harmless. They're not going to try and eat you." The medic smiled. "Unlike some mechs on board this ship, of course."

Sam frowned. "Yeah, I met some of them already, thanks," he said.

"Ah, yes, I've heard about your run-in with Thundercracker and Skywarp," the medic said, and snorted. "They'll never bother you again after that." Sam scowled. After what? He still had no idea what was so traumatizing about his voice that it made the Decepticons cringe like he was something that broke out of a cosmic prison for Eldritch Abominations. He opened his mouth to ask what the medic knew, but Knock Out had turned his attention back to his PDA as if that was the end of things. Then he looked back at him.

"I think you'd like to know…" the medic said, "After you're allowed back on Earth's surface, stay far, far away from any flickering signals that only appear on two channels."

Sam shuttered his optics. "Why?"

"Because that's Shockwave's trademark." The medic hesitated. "Has Megatron said anything about him yet?"

The former human shook his head. Knock Out frowned.

"I'm not surprised. He hasn't wanted to acknowledge the thought that Shockwave has turned on him." Knock Out shook his head. "Shockwave was one of our generals before Lord Megatron was reanimated as the AllSpark. He was irrationally upset with the idea of turning you into one of us, more so than we expected. More so than the rest of us even." Knock Out frowned. "He hasn't contacted us since he returned to Earth. I doubt he intends to return online."

Sam inhaled slowly. "He'd try to kill me if he caught me? Or would he ransom me?"

Knock Out frowned. "He was a scientist, boy, _and_ our Head Interrogator. You're likely to get vivisected if he catches you."

Vivisected? What was…? Sam's internal dictionary popped up with a definition. Sam's wires grew tense with horror as the color drained from his optics. He nodded quickly.

"U-Understood. If I sense anything like that, I'll get out of there," Sam said.

"Just don't draw attention to yourself and you'll be fine," Knock Out said, going back to his PDA and moving the magnifying glass to Sam's right leg. "I highly doubt Shockwave will deliberately seek you out with that signal of yours…"

'That signal of his'…? Sam pushed that thought to the side. "Got it," He said. Then he paused. "Thank you," He added.

The medic glanced up at him quickly, and Sam's spark skipped a pulse. Then Knock Out sighed and looked back at the device in his hand. "Now there's a term I've missed," he said, and pulled the magnifying glass away from Sam's frame. He slipped it into a holder on the side of the PDA and tapped on the PDA's screen a few times. After a few more moments, Knock Out turned back to Sam.

"Soundwave told my partner that he onlined some of your systems," the medic said. Huh, maybe he meant the neutral from the tunnel… "Can you give me a explanation of what you have access to?"

Sam shuttered his optics. "Uh…"

When Sam said nothing for a moment longer, Knock Out sighed. "Alright then, let's start with the easy things."

What followed was a series of yes and no questions as Sam was forced to describe what he was seeing and experiencing now that he had more of his systems onlined. It was slow going as Knock Out was detailed oriented as medic should be, to an extent that surprised Sam even after he dealt with Ratchet so often. He had absolutely no idea medics could be so damn anal about everything, right down to the colors of the text on their targeting systems.

"You say your targeting system is… colored red…?" Knock Out said. "Consistently…?"

"Uh, yeah," Sam said. He fought a huff and grit his dentas. This was taking _forever_. Did Knock Out really have to know all this crap?

"Huh," The medic said, frowning as he wrote the information into his PDA. "That's odd," He said as he finished. "Most of the time our targeting systems change color depending on whatever we're looking at so we're actually able to see it." Then Knock Out looked up. "What about your navigation system? What does it look like?"

"A map in the corner of my vision," Sam said.

Knock Out shuttered his optics. "You have a map?"

The former human nodded. "Yeah, it's right about…" He started gesturing in the air with his servos. Wait

a minute, what was he doing, Knock Out had no idea where he was pointing. "Left-hand side, at the bottom. I can make it go away and bigger if I need to," he added. The medic would probably ask about that anyway, might as well say it up front.

"Hm." The medic said. "That's interesting. Most of the time only sparklings and younglings have access to that map." Wait, what? A new expression crossed Knock Out's face. "That would explain…" The comprehension faded away, and he nodded, like that explained everything. "Shall we move on?"

Move on. Move. On. Sam gaped at him. "No we shall not move on! What do you mean only sparklings have that map! ? Why does that explain-"

Knock Out's expression changed, twisting into a menacingly blank expression. Sam flinched back. The words died in his throat. The medic leaned closer to the former human, and Sam leaned back to get away from him.

"I know all of this is… Hard for you to deal with, Skyhunter," the medic said, "And that you want answers that Lord Megatron either cannot or will not give you." The medic's face twisted into an actual glare, and Sam's spark sputtered like it was going to stop. "But I am your medic, and you are only three solar cycles old. You are not nearly mature enough as a Cybertronian to learn this kind of information. It could have some bad effects on your processor if you were to learn too soon." The medic met Sam's gaze and held it. "When you reach your first orn of existence, and I am sure there are no differences between your systems and standard Cybertronians, then I will tell you what you want to know."

Knock Out leaned back into his personal space and smiled. Or, well, what could be called a smile on his face. "Is that fine with you?" He asked.

Sam shuttered his optics, staring at him. "You say that like I have a choice in the matter."

The medic nodded. "True, but I've found that understanding the rationale behind an order tends to keep patients from disobeying it." Knock Out considered for a moment, then added, "Threats work too, but with you, that'd probably end up with me in Cellblock 19, and nobody wants that." He then turned around and walked back towards the computer terminal. "Give me a moment, I'm going to upload your information into our database."

The former human stared at the medic's back. Cellblock 19? What was— Actually, no, he didn't want to know. C'mon, these were Decepticons he was dealing with, it was probably a torture chamber or something. Probably the worse one, since Knock Out explicitly called it by name…

There was the woosh of a door opening. Sam automatically glanced up at the sound towards the door Megatron went through. It was still closed. From behind him came footsteps, and a mech grumbled, "I need a drink." Sam jolted and spun around in place. He shuttered his optics at the sight of the blue mech… The neutral from the tunnel?

The blue mech sighed and slumped into one of the two chairs in front of the terminal. Knock Out spun in place to face the mech.

"Let me guess," the medic said, placing his hands on his hips. "Bulkhead again? No, you don't look nearly injured enough to have had a run-in with him."

Who…?

The neutral groaned. "No, not him. Worse." The mech sighed. "You know how Lord Megatron asked me to locate the first batch of humans?"

Sam shuttered his optics. First batch of…?

Knock Out chuckled. "This is going to be good, isn't it?" The medic sat down in the chair across from the neutral, watching him with eager optics. The neutral scowled at him.

"That depends on your definition of 'good'," the neutral said. Then he rolled his optics and leaned back. "So after getting Lord Megatron's command, I thought, how exactly are we going to keep track of these humans while we wait to catch them? Then I realized, they all have those portable commlinks of those, what do you call them-"

"Cell phones," Sam interjected.

"Right. Cell phones." Knock Out gave the neutral a look, and the blue mech sighed. "I thought, they all have those cell phones of theirs. Why don't track them through there? They're always carrying them when they're not in their houses, after all."

Knock Out frowned in thought. "But to locate their… cell phones, you had to…" His optics flashed. "You had to call them, didn't you?"

"Right," The neutral said. "I thought, how hard could it be? They're just humans, and most of them have no idea about our kind. How could they figure out why I was calling them? I'd just have to say I got the wrong number and hang up, and I'd be good."

Sam snorted. The neutral sighed. "You can say that again." The neutral began to count out the incidents on his servos. "The first one I called hung up on me after they heard my voice. The second one thought I was her brother-in-law, whatever _that_ is, playing a prank and wouldn't hang up even after I gave a fake human name. The third one was drunk, and passed out in the middle of asking who I was." The neutral took a breath. "I called all thirteen of the squishies Lord Megatron located and only two of them weren't some form of insane! One of them even held me up to her buddy and made me listen to him rant about American politics for five minutes before I could verify who she was! And that last one." The neutral hissed through his vents. "After going through all that slag, I just wanted to get it over with and get some rest, but I called this glitch up and once she had a hold of me, _she__ wouldn__'__t__ shut__ up_! I told more times than I can count that I had the wrong number, but she kept on talking! About nothing! And when I finally hung up, _she__ called__ me __back_! I had to put a blocker on her number to keep her obnoxious ringtone out of my processor!" The neutral stared at Knock Out. "And Lord Megatron plans to turn these fleshies into Decepticons! ?"

Sam's jaw dropped. He what! ?

Knock Out was too busy laughing too respond, holding onto the computer terminal with one hand and pounding it with the other in hysterics. The neutral stared at him wordlessly, and as the medic tried to catch his breath, one glance at the other mech caused him to start laughing again. The neutral sighed in exasperation and leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms as if to wait out the medic's hysterics. After a few more moments, Knock Out composed himself and looked up at the neutral.

"Tell me… You recorded this, right?"

The neutral rolled his optics. "Of course," he said, "Lord Megatron requested that I record them so they'll have audio samples of the ones we're looking for. Didn't do too much good since most of those audio recordings aren't reliable…" Knock Out stared at the neutral intently, an unspoken request on his face. After a long moment of staring at the medic, the neutral sighed. "Alright, I'll get you a copy. Now stop looking at me like that."

The medic beamed. Sam shuddered a little. He looked creepy somehow when he was so happy… Sam turned back to the neutral.

"What about the sane two?" he asked

The neutral jumped and looked at him as if seeing him for the first time. After a moment, he shuttered his optics and sighed. "That's where it gets sad. One of them was probably only ten or twelve organic vorns old, or something around that age group. He hung up on me after saying he wasn't supposed to talk to strangers." Knock Out winced. Sam cringed in sympathy. "The other mech I talked to couldn't have been much older than you when you first met our kind." Sam twitched. How would he know that? "He was very civil for a wrong number…" The neutral frowned. "Too civil, actually."

Knock Out turned back to the neutral. "You mean…?" He said, then glanced at Sam, as if suspicious of him. The neutral nodded silently and Knock Out growled. "Fantastic," he said. Sam shuttered his optics at the two of them.

"What?" He said.

The neutral shook his head. "It's nothing," he said. It was the same kind of tone Knock Out had used earlier, as if that was that and there would be no more discourse on the topic. Sam scowled. More answers he couldn't get yet. Fantastic. Then, he sighed and looked back at the neutral with a slight smile on his face.

"You know, you've been in here talking about these humans for about five minutes now, but I still have no idea who you are," Sam said. The neutral smirked at him.

"But I know who you are," he said, and stood and headed towards the former human. Sam flinched back away from him. Knock Out lunged to his feet away from the computer terminal and ran towards the medical berth, skidding to a stop before Sam before the neutral did.

"Ah, yes, how rude of me to not introduce my partner," Knock Out said. "Skyhunter, this mech is my pet."

Sam's jaw dropped again. His what! ?

The neutral smacked Knock Out in the back of the helm. Knock Out let out a cry and staggered away from the medical berth, holding his helm. The neutral then offered the same hand he'd just hit his so-called master with for Sam to shake.

"The name's Breakdown," the neutral said as Sam accepted the handshake. He smiled, and Sam shuttered his optics in surprise as the smile reached both his optics and his tone. "It's a pleasure to meet you, Skyhunter."

_It__'__s__ a__ pleasure __to __meet __you._Wow. He never would have dreamed that he'd hear that particular phrase used by a Decepticon. But then again, Sam wasn't complaining. He smiled back.

"Likewise," he said, and released Breakdown's hand.

Knock Out groaned, and Sam turned to look at him. The medic was still holding his helm, but his face wasn't twisted solely with pain, and his fingers seemed to be searching for something. After a moment, the medic's fingers stopped examining his helm, and the medic raised his head to scowl at the neutral.

"I hope you realize that eventually I'm going to start dodging when you do that," the medic said. Breakdown chuckled.

"Ah, you're not going to do that. It wouldn't be as much fun for either of us if you did." Breakdown suddenly looked at the door Megatron went through. "I better get going. I still need to finish my report before I see Lord Megatron." Breakdown turned yellow optics to Knock Out, a cheeky grin on his faceplates. "See you later…" Breakdown smacked Knock Out's aft. "_Master_," He said, the word almost drowned out by Knock Out's squawk. Then the neutral turned and ran, ran, out the door, leaving Sam's jaw agape once more.

He couldn't believe that just happened in front of him.

Knock Out was clutching onto the berth next to Sam's for support, surprise still written on his face from the slap to the aft. Then he scowled and straightened up. The medic growled.

"That mech!" He hissed, probably to himself. "Coming onto me in front of a patient, hitting me in front of a patient. How dare he!" Knock Out growled again, then the frown faded into a loose smile. The medic chuckled. "Ah, no matter. I'll get back at him tonight."

Sam shut his mouth and stared at Knock Out. What did the medic find more infuriating, the fact that Breakdown had hit on him, and _hit_ him twice, or that he had displayed dominance over him in front of someone? Actually, that wasn't something he wanted to know, thanks.

As the medic rubbed his sore aft, again searching for something, Sam looked away out of politeness.

"I, uh, guess that was your lover…?" Sam asked.

Out of the corner of his optic Sam saw Knock Out jerk. Sam glanced back at him. The medic was smiling.

"The only mech I've ever met that bothered to learn how to hit me without scratching my paint," the medic said, with an expression that, had it been worn on the face of someone other than a Decepticon, would have been called dreamy. "I met him while he was still an Autobot," Knock Out added. Well, that explained his friendliness… Sort of. "He's the only mech I ever talked into joining the Decepticons without having to be ordered to do it, if you know what I mean." The medic sighed and gazed into space, memories flickering before his optics. Sam shifted uncomfortably away from him.

"So, I guess he's… Not your pet?" Sam asked.

The medic snapped back to reality, but the smile remained on his face. "What I do with my lover in our quarters is our business, not yours, Skyhunter." Sam's optics flared bright red, his mouth opening to apologize, only for Knock Out to cut him off. "But yes, we're both into Rivet, if that's what you're trying to say. Most Decepticons are, to some extent. We're not interested in it nearly as much as Lord Megatron is, but we do play around with it occasionally."

Sam stared at Knock Out. "…What's Rivet?" He asked. Wait, did he want to know the answer to that?

Knock Out stared back at the former human. "Keep sharing a quarters with Lord Megatron, and you'll find out," the medic said.

"Wha-?" Sam started, but a door slid open, and heavy footsteps came from across the room. Sam turned his head towards the door Megatron went through, and there he was.

Exhaustion was clear on Megatron's face as he emerged from Vindico's room. Age was showing on his face in a way Sam had never seen before. In three days of dealing with the Tyrant, he hadn't exactly looked young or old, but always alive. But as Sam watched the Tyrant, his whole frame seemed to yearn for the scrapheap. His spark clenched in fear, then relaxed as the expression faded from the mech's face and his spinal structure straightened up again.

Megatron turned to Knock Out.

"Have you completed your examination?" Megatron asked.

Knock Out nodded. "It's finished, my Lord."

"And?"

"And aside from some interesting programming quirks that I will need to speak to you about in private," Sam huffed silently through his vents in exasperation. Knock Out continued. "The only thing unusual about him is the fact that he is still a virgin."

Oh my god, he did not just say that out loud. Sam buried his face in his hands. Did he really have to just blurt it out like that! ?

Megatron sighed. "You needn't worry about that, Knock Out. We'll be getting to that soon enough." Sam's head shot up from his hands to stare at Megatron. Horror gripped his spark like a vice. Megatron turned to the former human and met his gaze evenly. If he noticed the fear on Sam's face, he did not react openly to it.

"He wants to see you," Megatron said. Knock Out shuffled.

"Ah, my Lord, is that such a wise idea?" Knock Out started. "I mean, after what happened-"

Megatron's head turned to glare at the medic, and Knock Out cringed back.

"If you want to tell him that they cannot see each other, you go in there and tell him that," Megatron said. Knock Out's optics paled, and his frame shuddered in fear.

Sam stared at the medic in confusion. What was so terrifying about a teenbot like Vindico? Actually, he'd just ask Vindico himself. Sam hopped off the berth.

"I'll go talk to him," Sam said, and stepped past Knock Out towards Megatron. Megatron stepped to the side to allow him through, and as Sam stepped closer to him, their optics locked. Megatron's face was unreadable, but his optics were haunted, staring at him as if in another moment the former human would dissolve into dust. His spark twitched again and he smiled at the Tyrant, but his feet were moving through the door, and finally he had to tear his optics away as he stepped inside Vindico's room.

As the door shut behind him, there was a sound of metal being ripped from its resting place. Sam looked up, only to yelp and dodge to the side as a giant, jagged-edged piece of sheet metal was thrown his way. Landing on the floor next to a maintenance shaft, Sam took a breath and rolled over. He sat up and stared at the piece of metal crunched up against the door he'd just come through. That thing would have been...

"Oh," Vindico said from somewhere in the room. "It's you."

Sam's head spun around to find the teenbot. His optics landed on him immediately. His spark clenched in horror.

Vindico was lying on a vertical berth, his arms and legs half-tied to it. Tubes wiring up to the ceiling were embedded in his armor, probably connected directly to his internals. Even with the tubes covering the teenbot, Sam could still see the dents in Vindico's armor, wounds not yet fully repaired. The apology rose to his lips before he could stop it.

"Vindico, I'm sorry," Sam said.

One slender optic ridge raised on Vindico's face. "For what? Getting fixed?"

"No!" Sam said, rising from the ground. "For causing you to have to _get_ fixed!"

The teenbot let out a short bark of laughter. "You needn't stress that fragile processor of yours," Vindico said. "I don't feel a thing. The painkillers that medic's got me on are doing wonders to everything except my mood." The young mech scowled at that, and Sam stared at him for a moment. Vindico's optic refocused again. "What are you still doing over there?" He said. "Get over here!"

Sam complied, walking over to the Decepticon on the medical berth, and stopped right beside the teenbot. Now that he was closer, he could see that the flames that had covered the teenbot's frame in his previous encounters with Vindico were gone. The pools of glowing liquid littering Vindico's frame were now glowing brighter, and seemed fuller for some reason. The light they provided gave Sam brighter light to view Vindico's dents than Sam really wanted. Sam shivered, then turned his gaze to Vindico's face. The metal on the teenbot's face was smooth, no longer covered with the odd mandibles that Sam had mocked in his head before the attack had happened. Sam winced at the memory. He looked at Vindico's face again, then without really realizing it, reached out and stroked the smooth metal. Vindico's whole body jerked, and Vindico hissed and pulled his head away. Sam jerked his hand back.

"Sorry!" He said. "D-Does it hurt?"

Vindico struggled to catch his breath. After a moment, he said, "No. Just… Sensitive." He exhaled through his vents. "Very sensitive. Don't ever do that again."

The former human nodded. "U-Understood."

After another long moment, Vindico's breathing stabilized, and he turned back to face to former human. Vindico gave Sam a once over, then grimaced. "Megatron hasn't taught you how to use our showers yet, I see." Vindico commented dryly. Sam flinched. How could he forget he was covered in Vindico's energon! ?

"Vindico, I'm sorry, I shouldn't have-"

The teenbot's optics narrowed. "Stop. Apologizing."

Sam paused, staring at the mech on the medical berth. "Huh?"

Vindico scowled at him. "I'm not angry at you," he said.

He wasn't? Why not? ! He had every reason to be! "But I shouldn't have-"

"'But you shouldn't have,'" Vindico verbally mocked. His optics narrowed to even smaller slits. "'But you shouldn't have' nothing. I was antagonizing you, slaghead. How were you supposed to react when I said your friends were going to turn on you? Fall to pieces? _Agree_ with me?"

Sam opened his mouth, then paused, and closed it. "You're right." He said, "I wouldn't have reacted with anything but anger at that. Anything else wouldn't be human."

"Even though you aren't human anymore," Vindico said. Sam frowned at the smaller mech. Vindico didn't pay him any attention, merely readjusted himself on the medical berth. "But you needn't worry, we'll beat those organic instincts out of you yet." Vindico twitched and looked up at Sam as if in alarm. "But that will take a few hundred years. I doubt you'll ever be a true Decepticon, but…" Vindico's lips quirked upwards in a smile. "I like challenges."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Sam said, shuttering his optics at the teenbot.

Vindico still smiled at him. "You need a friend. I need a bodyguard. It all works out, right?"

A bodyguard? What was that supposed to mean? Still, Sam smiled anyway.

"Yeah, I guess it does, when you put it that way."

The teenbot smirked. "See? I'm right, as usual."

Sam rolled his optics, and glanced around the room. Exhaustion was starting to slink up onto him, and the day wasn't even over even for his screwed up schedule. Was there a chair or something around here he could sit on…?

"Use this."

There was a scraping sound and a rush of air, and something collided with him under his knees. Sam yelped and fell backwards, only for his back to hit solid air, his limbs flailing over the side of whatever he had landed on. He glanced around, his vision swaying, only for it to stabilize again. Sam sat up. He was sitting on a metal plate, possibly the same one that had been in front of him when he came in. And it was levitating in the air.

Sam turned his gaze to Vindico. The teenbot was smirking. Sam stared.

"Since when have you been psychic?" Sam asked.

Vindico rolled his optics. "Telekinetic, actually," He said. "And I always have been. I just…" The teenbot hesitated. "Haven't been able to use my powers recently."

The former human frowned and looked at Vindico again. There was something different about Vindico now, beyond his face, and his powers and the obvious lack of fire…

The fire. "That's what's kept you from using your powers," Sam said. "The fire. When it manifests, you can't use them."

The teenbot hesitated, then nodded. "Yes," he said. He turned his gaze to his frames. "They're not really flames," Vindico said. "That's why you weren't screaming in agony when you landed on top of me that one time." Vindico glared at him. "I'm still irritated at you for that."

Sam frowned at him. "Don't change the subject Vindico," he said. Vindico winced and looked away.

"The flames are actually chaos manifested," Vindico says. He took a breath. "Unicron gave them to me when I aligned with him all those eons ago."

"When you _what_?" Sam asked.

Vindico scowled. "It's… a long story. I'm not inclined to talk about it, and it doesn't matter much anyway." Vindico stared at the pool of energon on his arm. "He gave me his chaos when we first met," Vindico said. "I've carried it with me ever since."

Gave him his chaos…?

"But since I am a teenbot now," Now? "I have no grasp on the chaos energy I used to fight with for so long. Since I cannot use it, it manifests as frames from my frame. If it didn't do that…" Vindico stopped. Sam nodded in understanding. Then the former human paused.

"If you don't have access to your powers, can you still fight?" Sam asked.

Vindico's head whipped around to glare at him. "I still remember some things!" Vindico snapped, "And I can still use a few things to protect myself!" Then he relaxed. "But I'm not going to worry about everything I don't remember or cannot access," Vindico said. "After all, soon I'll have you, right?" He smiled.

Sam's spark clenched. "B-But Vindico, I-I don't have access to my weapons system! Megatron said he doesn't intend for me to fight! How am I going to protect you! ?"

"Leave that to me," Vindico said, his tones completely calm and smoothing over Sam's frame like silk. "For now, just relax, get used to your new life, figure out your place as a Decepticon and don't get angry, and everything will be fine."

The former human slowly relaxed. "You're sure?"

The teenbot smiled. "Would I be saying it if I didn't believe it?"

Sam paused, then shook his head. "I haven't known you long enough to know that," he said.

Vindico's smile changed to a smirk. "Paranoia will get you everywhere as a Decepticon," He said.

That actually made Sam laugh. "That's good," Sam said. He sagged. "Because I get the feeling I'm going to be paranoid about every new thing I come across."

There was a knock at the door. Vindico yelped and the sheet of metal gave way under Sam, bringing both him and it to the ground. Sam groaned and rolled off the sheet of metal, then yelped again as there was another knock. As Sam scrambled to his feet, Vindico growled.

"Five more clicks!" He shouted. There was a pause, then the person on the other side of the door hit it so hard the door groaned in protest and there was an even louder protest from what had to be Knock Out. Sam looked at Vindico. Vindico was staring at him.

"I don't want him to take you away," Vindico said. His inflections were soft, his tones trying and failing to hide what Sam could almost swear was loneliness covered with self-loathing at admitting this. "I can't stand being trapped in here by myself. I have things to occupy me in my quarters… There is nothing in here but me. And I'm going to have to be in here for days."

Sam shuttered his optics. On the other side of the door Megatron shouted, "If you don't open this door right now I'm going to _make_ you open it!" Sam spun around to stare at the door, then huffed. Tyrants. So damn impatient.

"Five. More. Minutes!" Sam shouted. Then he turned back to Vindico. "Do you have Internet access?"

Five minutes later, Sam slipped out through the crack in the door Vindico made. He glanced around for Megatron, only to yelp as the Tyrant lunged at him from the side.

"What the slag were you two doing in there! ?" Megatron shouted. Sam stared at him.

"Talking. And I was giving him some websites to look at while I wait to talk to him again." Sam said. "Calm down, we weren't doing anything-"

"Websites?" Megatron said with a frown. He leaned closer to the former human. "What kind of websites?"

"Um. Youtube and Google Videos, for one. Project Gutenburg, too. A few Lovecraft websites, various history websites, some online gaming places that don't require registration, and a link to Google to look up whatever he wanted so long as he didn't draw attention to himself or register for anything."

Megatron snorted. "I doubt he'll bother to register with anything. Hack others' accounts or hack the website itself, perhaps, but the idea of joining anything like a _human_ wouldn't occur to him." The Tyrant gave him an odd look. "Did you talk about anything else?"

"Nothing you probably don't already know," Sam said, shaking his head. "We talked about his powers, mostly. You didn't give us much more time to discuss."

"There will be time to talk with him later," Megatron said. His claws wrapped around Sam's right wrist. "For now, you need to come with me."

Sam's spark dropped. "Where are we going?"

Megatron's smile was all teeth. "We're going to get you cleaned. Because as much as I enjoy seeing you splattered with the energon of another…" Megatron leaned closer to Sam than he had before, right into his right audio. "I'm going to enjoy cleaning it off even more."

* * *

I love that last line. And I love how IC Megatron is in this chapter! I thought he'd never be IC in this fic! *coughs* But I digress.

Some of you people will have noticed when you voted in my profile that I said something about a roleplay being created based off this fanfic? Well, I played around with the FF(dot)net forums and I'm not impressed with them. I'm also pretty sure that most people wouldn't follow me to creating a roleplay in another forum either. So, I'm going to do something I've always hated and feared: Take OC character applications.

I'm pretty sure some people are jumping in joy, and others are closing the tab this fic was in. Make no mistake: The main focus will ALWAYS be on Sam and Megatron, but I do need characters for Megatron to change into Decepticons, and I'm not nearly creative enough to come up with eight OCs and keep them all in character. I cannot guarantee how much screen time the characters will get if you submit one, however I WILL be writing a one-shot based on the character's kidnapping for each character I accept, to get a feel for them. Also please note that if you send me a Mary-Sue, I am going to show you no mercy. A Mary-Sue is not just a perfect character but can also be an impossible character, and I hate impossible Mary-Sues most of all. So don't try it with me. Also, due to the length of this profile skeleton I've whipped up, I won't be putting it here. State in your review that you want a copy or PM me for it. Asking me why it's not here in any form, including saying that I forgot it, is an immediate decline for a copy. (I'm being anal about this because I'm kind of scared of doing this, as you've probably guessed by now… Not that I'm not also excited for some reason, however...)

Edit 11/18/11 8:33 PM: I see I did not make this clear enough, so let me state it again: **I HAVE A PROFILE SKELETON READY FOR YOU. ASK ME FOR IT. IF YOU SEND ME A CHARACTER USING YOUR OWN SKELETON, YOU WILL BE DECLINED AND MAKE ME CRY LIKE I JUST HAVE BEEN.**

As an aside, you might notice that I didn't say I need thirteen human characters, I need eight. This is because five of the characters, and one character that probably isn't going to be turned into a Decepticon, are not actually OCs. Three of them are probably going to be easily identified if you're familiar with the TF series that Knock Out and Breakdown are from (yup, it's them), but the other two are mostly because I'm a HUGE fangirl from the series they're from and OMG the movie is coming out next year YAY! And that's probably a huge give-away to those who are also familiar with the series. I will give cookies and kudos to the people who correctly guess who I'm talking about, either series, and no matter if someone else has already correctly guessed their identities.

Anyway, it's late, and I need to eat something.

See you next chapter!

~Jason


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